The Rebirth of Dragons
by L4zyD5zy
Summary: My first fanfic. Starts post-S3. Merlin and Arthur will be put through some dangerous, gritty, and tough situations before they can herald Camelot's golden age. Canon-era. Expanded summary inside.
1. Prologue: A New Prophecy

SUMMARY: "Arthur Pendragon, the noblest and bravest king to ever rule Albion. It is known. But before this all comes to pass, you must embark on important quest." Merlin, Arthur, and the knights have to complete a quest that restores dragons into the world before heralding Camelot's golden age. Meanwhile, Morgana and Morgause are never lurking far behind, scheming sinister plots to grab power for themselves.

**A/N Starts with scenes from Merlin ****Season 3 **Episode 5 "The Crystal Cave" and diverges to AU. _BUT_ I'll try to keep my writing on par with the original feel of the Merlin show. This is my first fanfic, born out of a desire** to see the ****characters in **Merlin put into some new situations (**dangerous, gritty, and epic ones **reminiscent of Game of Thrones), so I'll probably incorporate some GoT characters and story elements here. But you don't need any knowledge of GoT to read this story. I'll warn if there are GoT spoilers. ******Will be multiple chapters.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, and am not making any money from this fiction. It is created purely for enjoyment.**

.

**Prologue: A New Prophecy**  
_At the Crystal Cave, Merlin sees that his own prophecy shall soon be successfully fulfilled but also learns of a new prophecy._

* * *

_**Earlier that day**_

_THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. The sound of Merlin's heartbeat resounded abnormally loudly in his ears. Perhaps it was his body's way of reacting to unfortunate situation at hand._

_"Rarhhhhhh!" screamed one of the thirty-some bandits in close pursuit behind Merlin and Arthur. Twisted roots of old trees seemingly reached out up out of the ground suddenly, threatening to hinder their escape. The dire situation distracted Merlin from noticing that they were nearing the Valley of Fallen Kings. He followed Arthur as he skidded down the slope of narrow ravine._

_"Are they still after us?" he panted, trying to catch his breath._

_Arthur craned his neck in the direction they had just come from, "I told you we could outrun them," he declared smugly._

_"You sure?" Merlin looked back cautiously._

_"Why is it you never trust me, Merlin?" quipped Arthur. Shortly after, an arrow whizzed past, and buried itself in said prince's right shoulder._

* * *

**Present**

Merlin removed the poultice wrapped in leaves from the fire and held it to Arthur's forehead. "Come on," he pleaded with the unconscious man. Merlin's eyes drifted worriedly to the arrow wound in Arthur's back. Trying desperately to keep his panic at bay, he shook Arthur gently, "Dollop-head. I need you to recover." Falling back on his feet, Merlin seemed to be thinking rapidly, his eyes darting back and forth. With his mind made-up, he turned Arthur over on his side and chanted a healing spell. Arthur's face, however, remained white as a sheet. A raven cawed ominously somewhere in the trees.

"Listen to me, clot-pole. I don't care if you die. There are plenty of other princes. You're not the only pompous, supercilious, condescending, royal imbecile I could work for. The world is full of them. But, I'm gonna give you one more chance." Merlin chattered with a false cheeriness, more for his own benefit than the prince's, as the latter lay deathly still. Merlin tried various incantations over the next couple of hours, all to no effect. Frightened and at a loss of what to do, Merlin walked despondently over to a puddle and crouched down, as if to do something but then just stared at his reflection. Splashing some water on his palms to wash Arthur's blood off, his panic suddenly broke through the surface, and his eyes stung with tears.

"Tell me, why are you so sad?"

Startled, Merlin looked up to see an old man standing near the ravine's entrance. "It's my friend. He's dying and I can't help him."

"Then do not waste your tears, for I can tell you that the time for him to die is not yet upon us."

The old man's name was Taliesin, and he knew who Merlin was—knew of Emrys. After healing Arthur, he took Merlin to a cave within the valley, leaving the now rosy-cheeked prince to sleep through his remaining recovery. Said cave was glittering with different shaped crystals, hence its name, the Crystal Cave.

"This is where magic began," Taliesin explained. Images began appearing in some of the crystals. Moving in for a closer look, Merlin saw a crowned Arthur sitting upon the throne, with a crowned Guinevere to his left and Merlin standing just to the right, in purple robes. "The Golden Age of Albion will soon be upon us," Taliesin smiled.

"Why have you brought me here?" Merlin peered at him cautiously. When no response came, he moved on to other crystals. He glimpsed a young, brown-haired child standing in a crowd, eyes full of fear as she witnessed an execution. In another crystal, he saw a white-haired young girl walking with three baby dragons flying around her.

"Your path will soon collide with the Mother of Dragons, and it is your destiny to help her!"


	2. Background and Setting

**Background and Setting**

For the purposes of this story, Camelot is the capital of 5 kingdoms that together are known as Albion. Albion will occupy the western portion of a larger continent.

King's Landing is the capital of 7 kingdoms which together are called Westeros. They occupy the eastern portion of the continent.

Albion and Westeros are separated by a formidable mountain range called The Red Mountains, which have isolated the two regions from each other.

* * *

_And now, time jump to between Seasons 3 and 4...Morgana revealed her true colors after laying siege to Camelot and instilling a brief but terrible reign of evil over the land. Uther is left devastated and psychologically crippled. _


	3. Cha 1: The Visitor

**And now, time jump to between Seasons 3 and 4...Morgana revealed her true colors after laying siege to Camelot and installing a brief but terrible reign of evil over the land. Uther is left devastated and psychologically crippled.**

.

**Chapter 1: The Visitor**  
_A mysterious man brings news from distant lands._

"Merlin! You're going to be la-" Gaius's voice trailed off as he was greeted by the sight of Merlin's room. "Good heavens Merlin what _have_ you been doing here?" he exclaimed.

"Sorry, sorry, I know I'm going to be late. I've been staying up late these nights," explained Merlin as he hastily shoved some of the more suspicious-looking magic books under his bed.

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Not the best hiding place I admit, but Uther's probably preoccupied these days and not going to be popping in any time soon." To say that Uther's spirit was diminished was a gross understatement. Arthur, however, still kept up appearances and ran the kingdom's affairs as Prince and temporary leader, not wanting word to reach other kingdoms that Camelot could be vulnerable and in a transitionary state.

"What are you researching Merlin? Is this…are you reading about the origins of dragons and the Targaryens?" Gaius picked up some papers strewn about the floor.

"Er…yes well, just trying to brush up on some history of the land. You know, to be prepared with information when Arthur needs advice. Or when I might suddenly need to provide a convincing argument for repealing the law on magic. Well I'm late again, and a certain royal prat is going to have my head in the stocks quick as spit so I'm off!" Merlin grabbed his satchel and dashed out the room, leaving Gaius still standing in the middle of his mess.

* * *

"Your grace, a royal messenger from across the Eastern borders of Albion has requested your audience," a royal courtier announced. Arthur sat on his father's chair in the Council Chambers—King Uther was 'busy attending to other matters.' With Arthur's nod of consent, the courtier stepped aside to reveal a plump man, hairless as a baby's bottom, with a saccharine smile and beady eyes.

"Your majesty, thank you for granting me this audience. It is true as they say, the kingdoms west of the mountains are blessed with honorable and noble leaders," the eunuch fawned. Merlin rolled his eyes, another sycophant who would probably take hours to get to the point.

"Indeed, and what brings you so far from your lands?" Arthur seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Merlin, though his features remained stoic and impassive. _Like a true king_, thought Merlin pridefully.

"My name is Lord Varys and I come from King's Landing, as a representative of King Robert Baratheon, ruler of the seven kingdoms of Westeros. We have heard unsettling news of happenings across the Narrow Sea, and seek to establish an alliance against a growing threat." Some of the older knights in the room stiffened and uncomfortable shuffling could be heard. Arthur, however, seemed just as lost as Merlin was. Luckily, Geoffrey of Monmouth, the court genealogist and keeper of the royal library stepped forward.

"Lord Varys, it seems that there is much to discuss, perhaps we should prepare some quarters for you in the castle so that these issues can be properly discussed in a grand council meeting tomorrow."

"As you wish, my lord," Lord Varys bowed. As soon as he left with some servants, Geoffrey turned to Arthur.

"Forgive me for my impudence, Sire. The situation Lord Varys is referencing will require some historical knowledge you may be unaware of."

"And why was I not made aware of it?" Arthur huffed.

"Our great King Bruta, Camelot's founder and first king, brokered a peace treaty with the ruler of Westeros centuries ago, just after the establishment of the five kingdoms when Albion emerged from the carnage and bloodshed of civil war. However, the formidable mountain ranges that separate their kingdoms from ours prevent frequent contact. The Red Mountains, as they are called, also provide an exceptional obstacle to raids or attacks from our Eastern brethren, and King Uther thought it unnecessary to concern ourselves with any of their affairs."

"This unnecessary concern now seems rather necessary," Arthur remarked.

"I apologize, my Lord."

"There is no need for apologies, what I need now is a quick but thorough briefing."

"Of course, I shall go fetch Gaius, as he is also knowledgeable in the history of Westeros. We can brief you later this afternoon, after the council meeting," Geoffrey bowed and exited the council room. The rest of the morning passed by in a blur. After the meeting, Arthur decided to go pay his father a visit.

"Merlin, why don't you go see to it that our guest is comfortable."**_  
_**


	4. Cha 2: The Minds of Lesser Men

**Chapter 2: The Minds of Lesser Men**  
_Arthur struggles with the enormity of his new burdens. Merlin gets to know Lord Varys._

"Sire, please try to eat something," Guinevere urged, holding a bowl of porridge. No one was allowed in Uther's chambers except her, Gaius, Arthur, and Merlin. Two guards stood post outside the door for extra measure. Uther, however, was oblivious to all this, and continued to stare blankly out his window. His once fearsome form now withered into a hunched, decrepit shape. Sighing, Guinevere turned away, preparing to bring the food back to the kitchens. Before she could open the door, it swung open and Arthur walked in.

"Guinevere!" Arthur smiled, but it was short-lived as his gaze shifted past her towards his father. "How is he today?"

"Not much has changed, I'm afraid."

"Here, give me the porridge, I'll have another go at it." Guinevere placed the bowl in Arthur's hands, gave them a comforting squeeze, and exited. Arthur pulled up a chair and sat down next to Uther.

"Father, you must eat something. You are still the king of this realm and Camelot needs you."

No response.

Arthur tried again, "Once you are well again, there are important matters that require your attention."

No response.

Arthur leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. "I am not ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling," he confessed, though to no one in particular. "Now some dignitary from distant lands want to discuss matters with me of which I haven't a clue. I'm going to make a fool out of myself, and of this kingdom."

Silence. Arthur sat quietly with his father, resigned but somewhat peaceful having voiced his fears.

Uther suddenly turned his blank gaze in Arthur's direction, "Fire cannot kill…a dragon."

* * *

"Come in," Lord Varys's toadyish voice drifted through the doors of his temporary chambers. Pushing the door open Merlin stepped inside.

"My lord, Prince Arthur asked me to insure that you are well-accommodated while here in Camelot. Is there anything you need?" Merlin surveyed the man before him. His plump fingers were covered in various jewels and he was swathed in a luxurious a purple fabric underneath a gold vest. Merlin almost choked on the overwhelming smell of perfume as Varys walked over to him.

"Oh my dear child, you Camelot people are too kind." His skin was fleshy and soft. "I was grievous sad to hear of King Uther's ward, and her betrayal. It seems the gods have not been kind in return." Merlin tensed, feelings of suspicion crawling on his skin.

"I'll be sure relay your condolences to King Uther, Lord Varys."

"Pray tell me, are you the loyal servant they speak of? The bards sung such delightful songs about the adventures of Arthur and Merlin, and what a rare friendship they share."

"Yes, my Lord, I am Merlin. You are very knowledgeable about our kingdom. Our court historian mentioned that the Red Mountains have all but barred communication between Westeros and Albion." Merlin attempted his best servile but cheery tone.

The eunuch giggled like a girl. "Oh yes, but my little birds bring me information from all over the world. I know things, sweet boy. Such is the service I provide for my king beyond the Red Mountains."

A maid walked in with a tray of fruits and set it on the table. "Do come sit and chat with me awhile, Merlin. I am so glad to make a friend in this city. Friends are SUCH an important part of life. It's unfortunate that King Uther did not have such loyal friends as Prince Arthur, else his throne would be safer from the desires of lesser men, while he lays sick and in failing health."_ How does this man know everything? _Merlin sat down warily. "Oh but rest easy," Varys leaned in closer to Merlin and whispered giddily, "I am VERY good at keeping secrets for my good friends."

Merlin shifted backwards, removing his thigh from Varys's grasp, "I'm sure your discretion is legendary, but they say that some misfortunes may be a fortune in disguise. Many believe that Prince Arthur will be the greatest ruler Albion has ever seen."

"A beloved figure among his people already! Well he may be powerful ally yet." _Or a powerful enemy_, thought Merlin.


	5. Cha 3: Powerful Weapons

**A/N I've been pretty silent up until this point, but I'll just take a moment here to profess my undying love for the Merlin and declare myself an undeniable raving fangirl.  
I know the show was supposed to be family-oriented, but I really wish they could have added a little more complexity to the plot developments and fleshed the characters out more, given them more depth. Now the show's over and it'll never happen! :( This fanfiction is my way of dealing with the grief.**

**This chapter will temporarily end/put a pause on the Westeros story arc. I plan to delve into some Morgana stuff next (Chapter 4), yay**

**Chapter 3: Powerful Weapons**  
_More is revealed about the history of Westeros. Varys departs Camelot but leaves behind more mysteries than answers._

"The kingdom of Daobeth…once held the strongest citadel out of the five kingdoms in Albion—before it was defeated by dragons...mind you, this was hundreds of years before Uther's reign," Gaius puffed, walking back forth between his table and multiple bookshelves. Merlin slurped noisily on some soup while listening to/watching Gaius review the ancient histories of kingdoms and wars from times past. "While the records are somewhat incomplete, it may be sufficient to presume that these attacks were simultaneous with the invasion of Westeros by Aegon Targaryen, also known as Aegon the Conqueror."

"The Targaryens, I've been reading about them. Are you referring to Aegon the Dragon?" Merlin piped up.

"Many also referred to him by that name, yes. The Targaryens had a long history of relationships with dragons, no doubt many were dragonlords. Westeros had never beheld the likes of dragons before and was thoroughly unprepared for the assault upon its land when Aegon flew across the Seas of Meredor—or the Narrow Sea, as Varys referred to it—and conquered the seven kingdoms with his dragons. They proved a most powerful weapon."

Gaius went on, "But in Albion, he came to a standstill at what is now the Valley of the Fallen Kings, just past Daobeth. High priestesses from the Isle of the Blessed allied with the ancient kings to mount a fierce resistance. Try as he might, Aegon could not breach the Southern border of Camelot. Furthermore, the Red Mountains stymied any chance of successfully attacking from his stronghold in Westeros. So several generations later, his descendants made a peace treaty with King Bruta, allowing Albion to run its own affairs, isolated from the political reach of Westeros."

Merlin twirled his soup spoon between his fingers pensively, "An alliance between magic and kings…"

* * *

"—potentially as a result of generations of inbreeding, the last Targaryen king led an erratic and murderous reign, earning him the nickname, the Mad King." Geoffrey droned on. Merlin was back in the Council Chambers, listening to Gaius and Geoffrey present their briefing to their briefing was anything but brief, they had finally managed to reach the present.

"Even before the Mad King, the Targaryen dynasty was marked by years of rebellion and political strife. Furthermore, for unknown reasons, the dragons born over each generation became feebler and weaker, until they all but died out. This provided the ideal climate for Robert's Rebellion, which extinguished the Targaryen rule seventeen years ago and established Robert of House Baratheon as ruler of the seven kingdoms."

"And this is the Robert Baratheon whom Lord Varys represents?" Arthur confirmed.

"That is correct Sire. Most of the Targaryens were slaughtered during the rebellion, however, the Targaryen queen managed to escape, with her young son Viserys and a daughter still in the belly, across the Seas of Meredor, or Narrow Sea. Word amongst sailors and ship folk indicates that the queen died at sea, while giving birth to her daughter, Daenerys. Their whereabouts remain unknown, but it is likely that King Robert seeks an alliance in relation to these events," Gaius finished.

"Thank you, Gaius, and Geoffrey. Your briefing has been very helpful." Turning to the rest of his council, Arthur opened the floor to the rest of the council for further information, "What can any of you tell me of Lord Varys? Merlin, you were with him this afternoon, feel free to contribute."

Though the round table itself was in the throne room, Arthur's emerging principle of equality in all things was beginning to take part in shaping the atmosphere of Camelot. As such, all of Arthur's trusted advisors and members of court could contribute to council meeting discussions. Merlin stepped forward.

"Sire, it seems that Lord Varys has a keen awareness of recent events in Camelot, and his knowledge extends far beyond the public domain. He…asked me to send his condolences to the King," Merlin paused, hoping Arthur would read between the lines. _Varys knows about Uther's condition!_ Merlin had a nasty feeling that Varys would use any leverage he had to try and manipulate Arthur into doing something that served his own needs.

Geoffrey meanwhile, nodded in assent, "This eunuch is called 'the Spider,' and serves as Master of Whisperers on Robert Baratheon's small council. He has a vast network of sources, or 'little birds,' that bring him information from far reaches of the world. Though not of noble descent, his valuable skill has earned him the title of 'Lord.' His reputation however, is distasteful, and I would urge caution in dealing with him."

"Caution is never a bad thing, but perhaps we should withhold judgment until we see what he has to say tomorrow. He may not ask for anything, and simply want to extend a hand in friendship, and one can never have too many friends," suggested Lord Agravaine, Arthur's uncle and a recent addition to the council.

"Very well, I will take all that has been said under advisement. If no one has anything else," feeling satisfied and more prepared, Arthur concluded the meeting. As people began shuffling out, Agravaine strove to walk across the room towards Arthur, but hardly two feet in, he was greeted by the sight of Merlin walking in step with Arthur. The insolent boy had a cheeky grin and was giving Arthur's shoulder a squeeze, in far too familiar a manner. Though barely perceptible, Arthur smirked back, as if the two boys shared a private joke.

_Arthur's manservant_, he thought darkly, eyes narrowing, and made a mental note as he slunk away into the shadows.

* * *

Early next morning, Merlin went to retrieve Lord Varys. He was surprised to see Lancelot coming out of the eunuch's chambers.

"Oh, Merlin, I apologize, I thought I was supposed to retrieve Lord Varys. He'll be coming shortly." Lancelot's voice seemed hoarse, and he avoided Merlin's concerned gaze.

"Lancelot, are you alright?" Merlin was unused to such a formal tone from his friend. The knight nodded curtly and angled his face to the side, but not before Merlin saw his bloodshot, puffy eyes. Before Merlin could react, however, Lancelot dashed off and Varys stepped out. He smiled pleasantly, smelling of lilacs, and quietly followed Merlin. As they reached the Hall of Ceremonies, the first rays of sunlight danced across the floor and between the curvatures of the high, vaulted ceilings. Not long ago Morgana had sat on the throne in this room. Today however, Arthur had assembled his court in this grand hall to meet Varys, and the result was no doubt imposing.

After exchanging a few formalities, Varys began, "King Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, has asked that I travel the far and wide, to let it be known that we shall pay a handsome reward for the extermination of the remaining Targaryens, namely one Viserys and one Daenerys Targaryen. Forty thousand gold pieces for each, though if done together, we'll pay ninety thousand."

"Your king is pursuing the assassination of two children? Where is the honor in that?" Arthur barely managed to contain his repulsion.

"Dragonspawn, if you will, is what King Robert refers to them. I understand your qualms, Prince Arthur, as it is a _vile_ thing we must contemplate, but we who are charged with protecting the realm must sometimes do terrible things for the good of its citizens. Our spies tell us that Daenerys Targaryen has wed a barbarian horselord, who commands a hundred thousand men. Should she be allowed to live—should she bear him a son—they may cross the Narrow Sea and wage war against us."

Varys gave Arthur an unctuous smile, and began again in a sickly sweet voice, "From what I hear, Camelot herself has had a nasty encounter with a dragon not too long ago. Terrible, fearsome creatures, if I must say so myself. The Targaryens not only consort with magical beings, but are said to _be_ magical beings themselves. The last thing we want is more sorceresses and dragons roaming about, oh dear." Merlin tried to keep breathing steadily as he struggled through this defamation of his kin.

"We are no friends of magic here in Camelot. Oh behalf of Albion, I thank you for sharing this information with us," Arthur ceded begrudgingly. Merlin's anger gave way to sharp pangs of sadness. With Uther's reign coming to an end, Arthur was supposed to progressing into the golden age of Albion, but thanks to Morgana and Kilgarrah's temper tantrum, Arthur's opinion of magic was about as low as it'd ever been. While it didn't seem like Arthur would be making any alliances with this king any time soon, he wasn't about to reproach an enemy of his enemies.

"Oh your most welcome, Prince Arthur. And with that, I must take my leave now and hurry back to King's Landing. Though I have enjoyed my stay in this beautiful country, full of beautiful people as well. Perhaps once we have dealt with this threat, you might consider drafting a formal alliance with us, and we shall meet again!" Varys bowed.

As he left, Gwaine raised his chocolate brown eyes from the floor and stepped forth, "Arthur, I'll face any enemy on the battlefield, but what he's promoting is _murdering children_."

"And who gave you permission to question the Prince?" Agravaine cut in, "These Westerosi's are not to be underestimated and their support could be invaluable to us. Powerful friends make powerful weapons."

Geoffrey cleared his throat, "On this I must agree with Lord Agravaine, Prince Arthur exercised the appropriate amount of caution and made no promises to this man. It would be unwise to create enemies of the kingdom at any point, but especially not now."

Arthur sighed, "Well now that we've had contact with these Westerosi's, it would be remiss to pretend they don't exist. We should get a better idea of the route that leads between their kingdom and ours. Gwaine, I'd like you to escort Lord Varys to the Red Mountain entrance. Merlin, why don't you join him."

"I'd like to join as well," Merlin looked for the voice, and found Lancelot.


	6. Cha 4: A Clash of Magic, Part 1

**A/N So I've mentioned how I wish Merlin had given its characters more depth, in particular, I wish they made the antagonists more interesting. I won't even mention Agravaine, he was so one-dimensional. Morgause seemed kind of interesting at first, but then she just decided to be 100% evil. Then Morgana, AHHHH. They could have done so much more with her! She went from a protagonist to an antagonist between Seasons 2 & 3, with little to no transition. But, enough complaining, I'm no director or TV show writer, just a new fanfiction writer! I hope my random imaginings are bringing enjoyment to others out there, I know I'm having fun writing it.**

**For the purposes of this story, Morgause did not kill Cenred, though he did not put his blood into the Cup of Life, and is thus still alive.**

**Chapter 4: A Clash of Magic, Part 1**  
_Gwaine, Merlin, and Lancelot escort Lord Vary's to the Red Mountains. They hit a stroke of bad luck on the way back._

The Prince's Pass, which was the sole viable route between Albion and Westeros, saw very little traffic besides the occasional trade wagons. It was through this overland path that Varys had travelled into Albion. The entrance however, was located in Cenred's kingdom, and caused everyone to be on high alert. Having transported Varys to the Prince's Pass without incident, Gwaine, Merlin, and Lancelot collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

"Gods it feels good to get out and ride again under the clear open sky. Nothin' but me and my old friend," Gwaine patted his leather flask. "Speaking of which," he opened the flask and took a swig.

"Haha, life in Camelot been too stuffy for you?" Merlin teased.

"Too many rules, too many appointments, I've half a mind to just leave it all behind. Hey what d'you say, Lance? Just you, me, and Merlin: two vagabond knights and a physician's apprentice on the road, our swords at our sides and who knows what in front us, maybe a tavern wench with a nice cold tankard of mead."

Lancelot shook his head, "And what if that tavern wench bears you a child, eh? Perhaps a bastard boy? Nay, it's not a good life for a child."

"Oh come now, who says I couldn't settle down one day, enter the world of fatherhood? After all, I'm going to need someone to listen to my endless stories to after you lot get tired of hearing them," Gwaine chortled and threw his head to the side, flipping back the hair that had fallen on to his face.

"Yes your stories, we're definitely not tired of those yet," Merlin gave his signature toothy grin and trotted his horse out of the way before Gwaine could punch his shoulder.

Laughing, the three boys continued on, and by midday, they'd veered off the open road and entered a forest. Finally, they decided to stop and make camp in a small clearing. Lancelot went to collect firewood while Gwaine hunted for dinner. Merlin took the waterskins and headed for the nearby stream. As the sun set, it cast a golden hue over the air, creating corpuscular rays that shimmered throughout the woods.

_Merlin…_

The startled warlock froze. His eyes scanned the banks of the river, but did not see anyone.

_Merlin._

Could it be? No…there was no way…it sounded like Freya's voice. Merlin knelt down and looked into the water. The bubbling brook moved too quickly to see anything clearly, but he could have sworn Freya's visage materialized in between the currents. Merlin skimmed the surface of the water with his fingers, and felt a tingling warmth. It felt as if his magic was being bolstered, nourished.

_Clang!_

"Merlin!" Not a moment after Gwaine's cry, he heard the unmistakable sound of metal swords. Merlin stood with a jolt and turned to bolt back towards the camp. Unfortunately, a twisted old tree root seemingly reached up out of the ground, and caught on his foot, hindering his escape. Sprawled on the ground, he saw a pair of metal-tipped boots walk into his field of view. The last thing he remembered was grunting painfully as those boots kicked him in the ribs.

* * *

Arthur was livid.

"This is an act of war!" cried Agravaine. Cenred's men had sent Lancelot and Gwaine back to Camelot, unconscious, on stretchers. Though bruised and bloodied up, there was no permanent damage and Gaius claimed that they would recover within the day.

"On the contrary, Sire, it seems that Cenred is not asking for trouble, since he sent the knights back," interjected Sir Leon. This was true, but Cenred had to failed to imagine how important a certain gangly manservant was to his Prince.

"Escalating this matter could jeapordize the tenuous truce we struck with the kingdom of Essetir," another older knight advised.

"I know," Arthur said quietly. His placid tone was somehow more terrifying than Uther's angry yelling had ever been. "Leave us," he said to the rest of the court. Only Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Agravaine remained behind. "Gwen, will you be able to manage for a couple of days?"

* * *

Merlin was dimly aware that he was seated in a cross-legged position, and someone was seated directly across from him, they had their palms pressed against him just beneath his collarbone. There was a searing cold emanating from the hands, piercing his defenses and squeezing his chest. There was also a set of palms at his back, slightly smaller, that emanated a burning heat. These two opposing forces clashed and banged against each other, fighting a war within his body as they bounced off his insides.

"Gh-ug…ugh, stop—stop," Merlin gasped, struggling to breathe. He tried to push the hands in front of him away, but found that he couldn't. He grit his teeth as violent pulses shook his body, accompanied by a faint clinking noise coming from his arms behind his back.

"It's no use! We're not getting enough energy from him with the magic-suppressing chains on!" a female voice shrieked.

"Calm yourself sister, you've extracted plenty. The next step requires they be removed anyway," someone rasped in reply.

Merlin barely registered the conversation going on around him. His face was scrunched in pain and beaded in sweat as he fought to breathe.

"We CAN'T remove them! He's too powerful, he'll escape…or worse, he'll kill us," complained the voice behind him—young-sounding—a teenage boy.

"This skinny brat? Powerful? He tripped over his own foot and knocked himself out, without my men having to lift a finger," a snide, older male voice jeered.

"Twenty years from now he could decimate us with the blink of an eye. His raw magic may be powerful, but he's still young. Weaken his mortal body, it'll dampen his magic temporarily."

"It would be my _pleasure_…"


	7. Cha 5: A Clash of Magic, Part 2

**A/N Whoa, that was really hard to write. I decided to try my hand at some whumpage, not sure how I feel about it.**

Starts with a Kilgharrah scene from Seasons 3 episode 5: "The Crystal Cave"

Keep in mind that, Morgause was injured in the Seasons 3 finale episode 13: "The Sword in the Stone(Part 2)." That's a major plot point for this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Clash of Magic, Part 2  
**_Morgana expends prodigious efforts to save her sister. This pursuit proves vastly unfortunate for Merlin, and ends up have unintended consquences._

_"The witch must die, as she should have done long ago. I will not save her." Kilgharrah looked down at the naive, young dragonlord. As Merlin recklessly abused his powers to command Kilgharrah, the great dragon knew that for all the kind, forgiving, selfless acts Merlin would ever do, it was this grave mistake that would come back to repay him twice over. "Very well, Merlin. But I warn you, the evil that will follow is of your doing, and yours alone." Despite his outward detachment, Kilgharrah felt great sorrow for the poor warlock who, based on a couple of really bad decisions early on, would soon be paying through the nose for it in spades of suffering._

* * *

Merlin awoke with a start. His eyes frantically darted in the direction of footsteps coming his way, and his raggedy breathing came in short bursts as panic seized him. _They're coming again_. He tried rolling off of his stomach and onto his back, but only managed to shift ineffectually against the manacles binding his arms and feet. Dragging his leg as far forward as the chain linking his ankles allowed, Merlin inched forward pitifully by grinding his knee into the floor and pushing.

With a screech, the door to his dungeon cell swung open. Cenred and his men loomed in the doorway, leering down maliciously like hyenas. Their torches flickered across Merlin's mangled and bruised face—his left eye was almost swollen shut and just beginning to purple. Heartbreakingly, Merlin continued trying to drag himself across the dank stone floor just to put a few extra inches and a few extra seconds between himself and his torturers.

"Get him." Merlin was able to reach a corner of the cell and fumble into a semi-seated position, with his back against the wall.

"Jus-just listen…you don't have to do this. I'm no fan of needless deaths…I'd heal her willingly if you'd let me." His normally bright blue eyes were now clouded with pain

It had been five days. No explanations, no mercy, no relent. Just an endless stream of vicious beatings. His right shoulder was dislocated and two of his left fingers were broken after being stomped on. Restrained as he was, he couldn't even shield himself from the torrents of violence unleashed upon him. All of it needlessly cruel and pointless. Merlin meant what he said—he had a gentle heart and merciful nature, he would willingly heal Morgause. But dishonorable people had dishonorable suspicions, and Morgana could never in a million years fathom such magnanimity.

Merlin choked as Cenred yanked him by his trademark red neckerchief and threw him face-forward onto the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Two guards grabbed his arms and began dragging him out of the room, causing Merlin to yelp in pain. Once in the hallway, the guards propped him up, expecting him to walk.

"Get a move on," one of them prodded his tender ribcage. Grimacing, Merlin slowly shuffled forward. Sensing that they were not about to begin their usual routine of kicking the daylights out of him, Merlin's adrenaline level died out and his legs quivered like jelly. Cenred kicked him in the back of the knee and he sagged in the guards' grip. The pressure this put on his dislocated shoulder was so agonizing that he nearly passed out. By the time he'd mildly regained his senses, they were in throne room of the Castle of Fyrien, Merlin recognized the surroundings. Morgause's face was still horribly disfigured, but she was well enough to be sitting up now, and she regarded Merlin's predicament coolly. The guards dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Cenred grabbed the hair on the back of Merlin's head and pulled him to his knees, making him wince in pain.

"He is not ready yet," Mordred said matter-of-factly, off to the side, now a young adult just shy of his late teens.

"Don't be holding out on us Merlin, or should I say Emrys? You have a tendency to do that," Morgana glared at him.

"You don't know what you're doing. None of you…you don't understand what you're meddling with. I know what spell you're trying to do, it's going to backfire. Just let me go, I'll heal Morgause," Merlin spoke earnestly.

"He thinks he knows more than a high priestess," Morgana laughed coldly, venomous hatred dripping from her words, "Drop your 'holier than thou' act, Merlin. You are a traitor to your kind and a coward. When my magic began to manifest so many years ago, instead of helping me you chose to poison me!"

Merlin stared at the ground. "I didn't want to."

_Morgana…_Mordred's voice drifted into their minds, soft and gentle. _Don't be angry, he isn't one of us. We're your kin, and we love you._

_You're right, Mordred, he isn't one of us._ Morgause agreed. _And everyone that isn't us, is an enemy._

The corner of Morgana's lip curled upwards. "I think it's time I gave Merlin a taste of his own medicine."

Terrified and desperate, Merlin made one more effort explain the direness of the situation, "I know that you have been using dark magic to extract magical energy from me to heal Morgause. But your trespassing has left remnants of your magic in its path. My body's natural balance has been upset and my magic is reacting aversely. Something bad is going to happen," Merlin broke off with a cough. He didn't think it worthy to mention that having these magical forces battle within his body also hurt, a LOT.

"Our prisoner is thirsty. Bring him some water Cenred," Morgana smiled at Merlin. The guards brought over a huge sloshing bucket and set it down in front of Merlin.

He didn't fully comprehended the situation until he felt hands grip his shoulders and begin to shove him forward, "No! Nn—"

_Splash!_

* * *

Arthur, Elyan, Percival, Gwaine, and Lancelot crouched in the shadows. They had found their way into the dungeons just as the guards came down to drag Merlin out of his cell.

"He was a skinny little thing, they had to refashion the cuffs 'cos they wouldn't fit over his wrists," one of them reminisced.

When Arthur heard Merlin's voice coming from the cell, pleading with Cenred, he gripped his sword so hard his knuckles turned white. Scuffling noises behind him however, revealed that Gwaine had to be held back lest he charge in right at that moment. Anger now burning in all of their hearts, the knights followed Cenred's men upstairs.

* * *

Merlin panted, water dripping off his hair and face. The guards held him down such that his nose was an inch from the surface of the water, reminding him of how easy it was to put him through another around of torturous asphyxiation.

"Not being able to breathe…HURTS! Doesn't it?" Morgana screamed. Merlin lifted his eyes slightly, and gaped at her in disbelief. Morgana had already done some terrible things over the past year, such as leaving him to die amidst a horde of poisonous Serkets at one point, but her level sanity was becoming unclear—there was no telling what this madwoman was capable of now.

"We can probably unlock the cuffs now," Morgause croaked.

As the guards put the key into the keyhole, several things happened at once. The doors behind them slammed open. Merlin's eyes flashed gold then became entirely gold. An explosion of blinding light flooded forth and whited out the entire room.

* * *

[1] Season 3 Episode 5: "The Crystal Cave"


	8. Cha 6: All Men Must Serve

**A/N Ok now back to the GoT story line. Also my first attempt at writing some bromance :)**

**Chapter 6: All Men Must Serve**  
_Merlin, Arthur, and the knights find themselves stranded in a strange new place. _

Merlin was on the ground—well, he was on his back—it was hard to tell what 'the ground' might have been because everything around him was bathed in in bright white light.

"Merlin? Merlin?" There was a distant voice that seemed to be getting louder. Merlin blinked and started to sit up, but his injuries and restraints seemed to have followed him into this nebulous world.

"Ugh!" he squeezed his eyes shut as pain radiated throughout his body.

"Doin' alright mate?" Merlin peered through the slits of his eyes as the last wave of nausea died down. Gwaine edged forward; his own face bore a multitude of different colored bruises that were in various stages of healing. The other knights were crouched beside him, looking somewhat at a loss of what to do.

"Good to see you all," Merlin smiled weakly, glad to hear Gwaine's voice instead of Cenred's.

Arthur nodded stiffly, concern knit between his furrowed eyebrows.

"There's no sign of Morgause or Morgana. Or…anything, for that matter," Elyan remarked.

"The Once and Future King," an unfamiliar voice floated through the air.

Arthur swiveled around, hand on the hilt of his sword, only to see a benign-looking old man in brown robes walking towards the group. Merlin instantly recognized him as Taliesin, the spirit of the wise old wizard who had saved Arthur near the Crystal Caves years ago.

"The Once and Future King," Taliesin directed at Arthur. The knights tensed.

_I am truly sorry for what you have gone through, Emrys. But your suffering was necessary, and not in vain._ Taliesin's voice echoed in Merlin's head.

"You are mistaken, sir. I am Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, who is the current king of Camelot," Arthur said.

"Arthur Pendragon, the noblest and bravest king to ever rule Albion. It is known." Perhaps it was the ethereal nature of the environment, but Arthur did not seem antagonistic towards this blatantly magical situation. He gazed at Taliesin with what could almost be interpreted as reverence. "But before this all comes to pass, you must embark on important quest, with the assistance of your noble knights. _Valar dohaeris _[1]."

_Merlin, the time has come. Help Arthur complete this quest, and the golden age begins._ Taliesin touched his finger to Arthur's forehead and before anyone could respond, the world went white again.

* * *

"We're definitely on the Prince's Pass. The road is paved similarly as at the entrance, and these twisted trees appear unique to the mountains here," Lancelot reasoned. By the time the group had regained their faculties, they were on a grassy clearing, near the edge of a dirt road that was flanked by steep rocky inclines on either side.

"Magic or not, he seemed like a decent chap to me," Gwaine declared. Since waking up in this area, all of his injuries had mysteriously healed. The same occurred for Lancelot and Merlin. "Looks like he got rid of some evil witches too while he was at it, eh Merlin?"

Merlin stayed quiet. Things were happened too fast for him to process, and his mind was somewhat in a state of shock. What seemed like a few hours ago, he'd been getting tortured and beaten to within an inch of his life; now he was back with the knights of Camelot atop a picturesque grassy plain, and had just been told that by helping his master complete a quest, his dream for Albion would begin. The perpetual pain that had racked his body was gone, but in its place Merlin now felt a gaping numbness, like his brain was a frozen block of ice.

"—tavern brawls, noble quests, great adventures, isn't this what we live for?" Gwaine had continued talking.

"Gwaine," Arthur interrupted. "I'm doing it."

"Oh," Gwaine was momentarily speechless.

"At the old man's touch, the quest was revealed to me in a vision, in the same way as the quest of the Fisher King's Golden Trident was revealed to me [2]. We must seek out Daenerys Targaryen and help her win back the Iron Throne, which rightfully belongs to her. Daenerys will also prove key to my father's salvation, but I don't know how yet. All I know is that this quest will allow me to prove myself worthy of the Camelot throne."

"Someone's coming," Percival motioned with his head towards a man carrying a bundle of sticks on his back coming down the path from a distance. He stopped every couple of steps to pluck some plants from the ground or rock walls and deposit them in a basket.

"Who goes there?" the man yelled, seeing the knights. He had to shield his eyes against the setting sun as he continued meandering over.

"We are knights from Camelot. We seek shelter for the night," Arthur replied.

"Ah, you are knights of Camelot. This man has the honor to be called Jaqen H'ghar, once of the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea." The strange fellow was closer now and his features could be made out. He was hook-nosed with a grotesque facial scar. His yellow eyes were partially obscured under scraggly brown hair that went down to his shoulders. "If it is shelter you seek, a man can bring you."

Something about this Jaqen's appearance and/or bizarre manner of speech seemed vaguely familiar to Merlin. Meanwhile, Arthur briefly made eye contact with all his men, to ensure consensus agreement on the decision.

Jaqen bent down to pick some last mushrooms and then turned back around towards the direction he came from. With that the group trudged forward. Soon, after about half hour of walking, they exited the narrow ravine into an expansive field. Here they departed from the main dirt road and began a downward descent. Eventually, Jaqen led them to a group of small cottages at the bottom, next to a lake. The slanted sun rays cast a gentle light over the wildflowers in the field and created a glimmering surface atop the water.

It turned out all the cottages were empty, yet it didn't seem eerie at all, tranquil, in fact.

"What happened to all the people?" asked Gwaine. When a response did not come, he tried again, "Uh, does a man know what happened to the people here?"

"A man does not know," said Jaqen simply. He set them up in one of the larger cottages, with ample beds, and left to go prepare food by the lake.

Merlin was about to collapse onto his bed, still feeling numb.

"I'm glad we have you back," Arthur blurted out. Merlin looked back at him surprised.

"Don't be such a princess," snorted Gwaine as he gripped Merlin in a tight hug. There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief as the knights slowly eased off of their heightened level of stress. They had finally found a place to rest and feel safe, albeit temporarily. Gwaine's warm and fun demeanor did wonders for Merlin, as he felt the cold numbness that was gripping him slowly melt and trickle away. Merlin grinned.

"Well I had to be back. After all, this quest isn't going to complete itself." Arthur opened his mouth to retort but couldn't think of anything. Gwaine burst into a loud guffaw while the rest chuckled. Even Percival cracked a smile.

With everybody in higher spirits, now resting or relaxing, Merlin decided to go see if Jaqen needed help.

While a pot of mushroom soup simmered away above a small fire, Jaqen was fishing in the lake. Removing his own boots and rolling his pants up, Merlin waded into the water to stand next to him.

"A boy can wash his clothes in lake, there is much blood on them," Jaqen said. Merlin looked over and realized that Jaqen had golden eyes, making it look like he was in a perpetual state of magic. "A golden age comes when the light can triumph over the dark, but fulfilling the prophecy often takes powerful magic. And powerful magic requires sacrifice…often in the form of pain and suffering."

"Who are you?" Merlin asked.

"A man is no one. And everyone. A Faceless Man," replied Jaqen.

"…ok…that was not very helpful," Merlin complained.

Jaqen smiled, "A boy does not like riddles."

"You seem to know an awful lot about me."

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Soon the now refreshed knights came over to sup and the conversation became less frustrating. The group dined merrily on fresh fish and mushroom soup until the stars came out, happier than they had been in a long time. Feeling exhausted, Merlin headed to bed earlier than the rest. As he slowly drifted off into sleep, pleasant memories drifted into his dreams.

_"My home was next to a lake, surrounded by the tallest mountains. In the winter the storm whipped up the water into waves and you thought they'd crash down and take away all the houses. But in the summer…wild flowers and light. It was like heaven." [3]_

* * *

[1] "all men must serve" in High Valyrian

[2] Season 3 Episode 8: The Eye of the Phoenix

[3] Season 2 Episode 9: The Lady of the Lake


	9. Cha 7: All Men Must Die

**A/N Haha, I think I accidentally incorporated some Morgana/Morgause**

**Chapter 7: All Men Must Die**  
_A dragon, a witch, and not a wardrobe._

Kilgharrah was flying east, far beyond the eastern edges of the world, towards the birthplace of dragons. He was being summoned there by ancient forces. _Valar dohaeri. Valar morgulis_. [1] Whispers in the wind.

Dragons had come from a continent called Essos, the land mass just across the Narrow Sea. On the western shores were a region once inhabited by Valyrians, an ancient race from whom the Targaryens were descended. All that was left now of this once great civilization were some scattered cities, known as the Free Cities. Farther east beyond the Bone Mountains lay the City of Winged Men, original ancestors of the dragonlords. Across all these places Kilgharrah kept flying. Finally, just past the Shadowlands, he reached the caves of Kunminth. As he landed on the timeworn black stone, he felt a sensation of the ground rumbling beneath him.

_Old friend, you have come._ Taliesin materialized from within the caves, wearing white robes and emanating white light.

_The magical forces reached their peak just now, I felt it as I was landing. _Kilgharrah bowed his great head, _Tell me, did the young dragonlord suffer much?_

_The witches wanted to siphon his powers, but tried to be cautious. They penned up his magic using suppressive shackles of the Old Religion and used brute force to weaken his resolve. But the torture destabilized his body's natural balance, and his pent-up magical energy tore a hole through the fabric of time when his shackles were removed._

Kilgharrah laughed derisively, _Alas, the witch gambled with magic too intractable for her to control. How peculiar that this ended up being the catalyst for Albion's prophesized golden age._

Taliesin shrugged, _The Old Gods do not predict how prophecies unfold, only that sacrifices be made to realize them._

At the mention of sacrifice, Kilgharrah gave a long expiration. _Will I retain my memories? Or will they die with me?_

Taliesin shook his head, _Merlin's suffering has already been offered as partial tribute to the Old Gods. I linked him to the incantation years ago when we met at the Crystal Caves. His part in the ritual is now over, and it is your turn._

Kilgharrah breathed his last stream of fire into the sky, and folded in his wings.

_You will be reborn as in as a Faceless Man in the Free Cities. Valar morgulis!_ Taliesin's eyes flashed gold.

Kilgharrah closed his own golden-yellow eyes as a flaming wall of fire engulfed him, one thought echoing in his mind: _Fire cannot kill…a dragon_.

* * *

Morgana felt as if she were floating. She tried to open her eyes but couldn't.

_Sister._

_Morgause!_ Morgana could sense darkness all around her.

_The enchantment did not work. But it is as well. Our mortal bodies have perished and our souls are being transported through time, to be reborn._

Morgana screamed in anguish.

_You mustn't despair, dear sister. We shall rule together on the Iron Throne in the next life._ Morgause assured.

_How will I find you?_ Morgana asked.

_Mordred will be our firstborn son._

* * *

Uther sat in the same chair he'd been in for months, staring out the window. His condition had steadily deteriorated, and he was now prone to fits of senseless drivel about dragons and faceless men.

"The Faceless Man says I am to do penance for all my sins," Uther moaned. "I must pledge my life and services to the Mother of Dragons."

Gaius gently tugged Uther to shift him onto his side and examine a bedsore. At the sight of the gaping wound Gaius clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I'll have to go get some paste for that, else it's going to get infected."

"I'll live as an exile, banished from my home, just as I have done unto others!" Uther babbled.

Gaius had barely reached the end of the hall when he heard a loud yell. Rushing back to Uther's room he saw Sir Leon with his sword drawn, standing between Uther and a strange man with yellow-eyes.

"A knight is still a knight, a physician is still a physician," the man directed at Leon and Gaius, "but a king becomes a fugitive."

Uther stared at the man with terror. "I am sorry, I am sorry for everything I have done. I regret my actions deeply," he mumbled hoarsely.

The yellow-eyed man looked at Gaius, "How old a man can become and yet change so little." [2]

_When you meet Arthur, tell him to send Elyan and Lancelot ahead. After the feast, they are to ride into the forest at midnight and meet Sir Jorrah Mormont, who will take them across the Narrow Sea. Remember this._

A fierce wind whipped up around the four men. It spun faster and faster until becoming a blur and nothing could be seen behind it. Then as suddenly as it began, the wind died down and the room returned to normal—except that now nobody was in the room.

* * *

[1] All men must serve. All men must die.

[2] Season 1 Episode 6: A Remedy to Cure All Ills


	10. Cha 8: Noble Peasant Knight

**A/N So to make the Merlin storyline fit with my story here, I had to go back and just add a teeny little scene to Merlin Season 1 Episodes 5: "Lancelot." **

**Chapter 8: Noble Peasant Knight**  
_The truth about Lancelot's mysterious past and parentage comes to light._

_**Merlin Season 1 Episode 5: Lancelot**_

_Merlin perched anxiously on the bench next to Gaius, who was examining the unconscious man lying on the cot, propped up by thick pillows._

_"The wound itself is superficial. The fever will pass," Gaius remarked. "He should be fine by morning."_

_The man, whose name was Lancelot, had fought off a griffin that almost killed Merlin earlier that day, and sustained a piercing wound in his lower abdomen. He seemed restless despite the tonic for pain Gaius had given him and his forehead was beaded in sweat. Lancelot's eyes cracked open slightly and he started trying to get up, "Wh-where am I?"_

_"Lie down young man. You mustn't irritate your wound," Gaius gently pushed him back down. Lancelot's eyes widened as he stared at Gaius, and grabbed the older man's arm._

_"You're here, Maester…I must be in Camelot," he lay back, recognition upon his face. Merlin glanced at Gaius quizzically, who shrugged and pulled the covers over Lancelot._

_"Must be the fever talking," he surmised._

_ Indeed, Lancelot's eyelids were now drooping again, and his mumbling trailed off, "Dreamt of coming here…since you told me…when I was a child. Knights of Camelot. My life's ambition…"_

* * *

Arya laughed as Mycah screamed like a little girl, "Well don't scream like that, it'll make her more excited! She won't hurt you." But the poor butcher's boy would not be convinced that Arya's new pet wolf wasn't going to rip right into his chubby cheeks.

"Arya! That is no way for a lady to behave! Call your wolf off that boy at once," a plump elderly woman huffed angrily.

"She's not a wolf, she's a _direwolf_," Arya grumbled, "and she's just playing," but not wanting to test her governess's temper any further she gave a little whistle. "Come here Nymeria."

"Your mother will not be pleased to hear about this young lady. Now come inside, we need to get you washed up and begin prepping for the feast tomorrow," the stern governess intonated.

"I have to grab some herbs for the maester," Arya yelled back as she bolted from the campsite.

"You most certainly do not!" But Arya had already leapt off dirt path into the grassy fields, Nymeria coming hard at her heels. _Why should she be bothered to wash up when she was just going to get dirty again anyway?_

Upon reaching the banks of a river, Arya did actually see the white-haired maester gathering medicinal herbs. Noticing her, he chuckled lightly, "Oh my sweet little wild child, what trouble have you gotten into now?"

"Gaius, the other day when we passed the Neck, I counted thirty-six flowers I never saw before, would you believe it?" Arya grinned. Nymeria gave a friendly bark and wagged her tail excitedly, in sync with her master's playful energy.

"Thirty-six? That's more flowers than years in you," he gazed fondly at the little girl. Ten years ago he had found himself transported from Camelot to the middle of nowhere, a barren northern landscape, by a mysterious yellow-eyed man, who instructed him to seek out a position as maester for the Stark family, ruling house of the Kingdom of the North. [1] _I've provided the appropriate forged papers, attesting to your background, medical training, and ability to provide mentorship to Lord Eddard Stark's children. With your now youthful body, you should reach Winterfell in less than a day's walk. _Indeed, Gaius discovered his physical body had reverted back about ten years, though his memories still carried up to the last thing he was doing. "Where is King Uther? What have you done with him?"

"Serve the Starks well; they are a noble family led by an honorable man, unlike your foolish simpleton king Uther, though he mayn't be beyond salvation yet, we must see how it all plays out. Remember to give Arthur my message. He will appear on eighth year after the birth of Lord Stark's second daughter." And so Gaius went to serve the Lord Stark at Winterfell. Sansa, the eldest daughter was already three when Gaius arrived. Two years later Arya was born. Gaius looked after them as well as Lord Stark's three sons. There was also a bastard boy who lived at the castle, one of Lord Stark's sons from before he married the Lady Stark. They were each of them sweet children, whom Gaius had come to care for dearly.

"—didn't have any place to put them, I mean, besides my pocket, but I thought they be useful," Arya clutched in her hands a raggedy bunch of purple and yellow flowers.

"They're beautiful Arya, thank you," Gaius hugged her. The energetic, mischievous little girl held a special spot in his heart.

"This one's rue right? With the feathery leaves? [2] I've never seen these purple ones before!"

"Those are violets, my dear, they can be a helpful treatment for coughs and muscle pains. Now, do you remember what I taught you about rue?"

Arya cocked her head to the side, "Um, you said…it's helpful for making a nervous person calmer and…and for stomach troubles, or maybe-maybe for making someone throw up, if they were poisoned?"

"Hahaha, that's very correct young lady," Gaius beamed, "but I also taught you that rue can cause rashes." Arya looked down; now that he mentioned it, her arms were starting to feel intensely itchy. Dropping the flowers, she hopped over closer to the river and began rubbing mud on her arms. Chuckling, Gaius bent down to pick up the dropped herbs. Nymeria trotted over to fetch Gaius's basket and move it closer to him. Setting it down at his feet she looked at him expectantly. _Ruff!_ Lord Stark had found five direwolves a couple weeks ago while out hunting with his sons—an unusual discovery, as direwolves so rare they were considered near-mythical. Now each of them had been assigned to one of the Stark children. Some thought the direwolves were an omen.

Currently the House Stark was travelling south on the king's orders, as Eddard Stark had been called to the capital to serve as hand of the king. Tomorrow they would meet the King's party, who had decided to ride out and meet them on the King's Road. Robert Baratheon wanted to spend some quality time with his old-friend before being tied down by the burdens of council, it seemed. "Arya don't stray too far!" Gaius strained his eyes as he spotted her outline moving further down the river banks. Nymeria suddenly started growling and bounded after the girl.

Arya turned around just in time to see Nymeria leap into the air and tackle a man. Pinning him on the ground she started snarling. "No! Off girl!" Arya ran over, hair tangled all over the place and arms dripping with mud, looking somewhat like a bog monster herself. Five more men emerged from the bushes, but she barely noticed. The man on the ground was just beginning to sit up when the force of Arya's embrace nearly sent him toppling over again.

"Brother!" she exclaimed happily, with her arms wrapped tightly around Lancelot's neck.

By this time Gaius had made it over, and his jaw dropped open. "Merlin! Prince Arthur!" Then he looked down at Lancelot.

"I made it to Camelot, Gaius, I made it to knighthood," Lancelot's voice was thick with emotion. Gaius knelt down and joined in the hug.

"Alright someone needs to explain what's going on here before Princess's head breaks," Gwaine joked. Merlin, Arthur, and Elyan were looking quite perplexed, as they viewed the scene before them.

Arya slowly loosened her grip, and Lancelot stood up, straightening his back, "I am Sir Lancelot, a knight of Camelot, a member of the most noble army the world has ever known. I am also Lancelot, bastard son of Eddard Stark, head of the House Stark and Lord Paramount of the North. I may not have my father's name, but I have his blood, and I shall live a life of duty, honor, and chivalry."

* * *

[1] The Kingdom of the North is one of the seven kingdoms of Westeros, ruled by Robert Baratheon, who resides at King's Landing (the capital).

[2] Rue (Ruta graveolens) was mentioned in Season 5 Episode 8: The Hollow Queen, when Merlin asked Daegal to fetch him herbs for a cure.

**A/N Rather than stating it outright, I'd hoped my writing was clear enough to show that Gaius had met Lancelot many years ago, as a young boy in Winterfell, and convinced him to seek knighthood in Camelot. This is why Lancelot recognized Gaius in Camelot, but since Gaius at that time hadn't travelled back in time yet, he didn't recognize Lancelot. I'd really appreciate some feedback on this! Especially if it wasn't clear.**


	11. Cha 9: Everyone That Isn't Us, Part 1

**A/N Oh boy, this is a long one, even after splitting it into two parts, enjoy!**

**Chapter 9: Everyone That Isn't Us Is An Enemy, Part 1**  
_New friends come into the picture, so do old enemies._

By the time Merlin and knights had woken up, the mysterious Jaqen H'ghar was nowhere to be found. Six horses had been saddled outside, fitted with the correct mounts for everybody. Arthur suggested they remove any articles bearing Camelot's insignia, and just travel as roving hedge knights [1]. This idea excited Gwaine to the point of giddiness, "I'm going to show you stuffy lot how it's done!"

After telling Arya to hurry back and ask permission for Lancelot to meet with their father, Gaius recounted the events at Camelot to the knights. Arthur became agitated when informed that his father had been kidnapped by a mysterious stranger. Finally, Gaius also relayed the message that Lancelot and Elyan were to go forward and join up with Daenerys, but Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and Percival were to remain in Westeros for the time being, to complete a separate, as of yet unknown task. Apparently it would be revealed to them when the time was right.

"This is as it was dictated to me, Sire," Gaius explained to Arthur.

"Um, is it just me, or does everyone else find it incredible that Gaius just got to relive his youth by ten years?" Gwaine commented. Merlin sniggered.

"Getting," Arthur shot them both a glare, "back to the issue at hand, how wise is it to follow this kidnapper's directive?"

Frowning, Merlin asked, "What color were his eyes again?"

"They were yellow," Gaius replied.

"It might be wise to try and see what information we can find out about this Jorrah Mormont before we are scheduled to meet him. I could inquire about him with my father. We have until the night after tomorrow before meeting in the forest," Lancelot offered.

"That would allow us to cover all our bases nicely," Merlin agreed, "arm us with more information to decide on what to do."

"There's only one of him, there's five of us. If we say no, then we're not doing it his way," Gwaine said.

"Six of us," Percival corrected.

"Right, sorry 'bout that Merlin," Gwaine winked and flashed Merlin one of his charming grins. Who could stay angry at a face like that?

Arthur sighed, "The question is, how am I going to keep from going mad when the ratio of Gwaine and Merlin to everyone else increases?"

"What did we say about you thinking too hard, Arthur?" Merlin had to duck out of the way as Arthur took a swing. He couldn't help one last jab, "Well, that wasn't very princely behavior. We can count on no one blowing _your_ cover."

When the group began walking towards the camp, Gwaine left Merlin to walk with Gaius in the rear—the boy and his mentor had a lot of catching up to do, what with Merlin being kidnapped and tortured brutally since the last time Gaius saw him. He quickened his pace to reach the front of the pack, and tapped on Lancelot's shoulder, "Hey Lance, I hope you know…I've never meant any offense in the past when talking about tavern wen—ahem, women, tavern women. I have the highest amount of respect for you…and them! Definitely them," he said, somewhat awkwardly, a large departure from his usual glib manner of speech.

Lancelot grasped Gwaine's hand on his shoulder, "Nonsense, Sir Gwaine. I'm sure you respect them, in _every_ manner of speaking."

"Lancelot!" Gwaine's lips formed an O in mock surprise, "I thought you didn't have a single bad bone in your entire body." Then after a pause, "I mean, there are just so many ways to respect them."

* * *

Upon reaching the camp, Lancelot veered off in one direction to meet with his father first, while Gaius guided the rest of the group back to his tent. They passed by the stables, where Arya and Sansa's direwolves, Nymeria and Lady, were leashed. They took to Merlin and the knights immediately, licking and jumping, wanting to play. Vestiges of Arthur boyish playfulness resurfaced, before all the ugliness with Morgana, as he tumbled around with the creatures. Septa Mordane could be heard in a tent not far away, scolding Arya for getting mud all over her clothes.

By the time they reached Gaius's tent, Lancelot was already standing there with his father, Lord Eddard Stark, or Ned. Arya and Sansa were also present. "Lancelot tells me you are all brave and honorable knights. I am glad he has found your company," he shook hands with Arthur. "

These are my daughters: Arya, whom you've already met, and Sansa."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance sirs," Sansa curtsied delicately. Her hair was a thick auburn compared to Arya's brown. Everything about her movements and persona was ladylike and fine, and yet she was only thirteen.

"Lord Stark!" a man rushed over, "The king has ridden out ahead of his main party and is arriving now, he wants to meet you in your tent."

Ned shook his head and sighed, "That's my Robert, as rash and impatient as ever. Pardon me, I must take leave now, it was good to see you," he shook Lancelot's hand and clasped his shoulder. Father and son exchanged a brief heartfelt look.

Gaius walked over to Lancelot and spoke quietly, "Lancelot, did Lord Stark inform you about your mother?"

Lancelot nodded, "He did Gaius, but I'd already heard about her passing from Lord Varys."

Sansa meanwhile, pulled out a little handstitched pouch and gave it to Gaius. "I thought it might be useful for you, maester, to carry herbs more easily. And you can wear it around your waist."

"Oh this needlework is exquisite. Thank you, sweet child," Gaius crinkled his eyes at her. Sansa smiled sweetly and curtsied again.

Arya pouted. She was still feeling humiliated from the earlier scolding Septa Mordane had given her. "Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," everyone said. "She is well bred and as elegant as any southern lady of court." Arya though, "had the hands of a blacksmith." Briefly drawn out of her moody musings however, she pointed at Lancelot's waist, "Is it true? You're a knight now? You've got a sword and everything. Can I see it?"

Sansa looked annoyed, "Hush Arya, that's not allowed. And it's rude to point."

Lancelot crouched down and put his hands on his little sister's scrawny shoulders, "A sword is no toy, little lady."

Arya crossed her arms, "I know it's not a toy, and I'm not a lady!" She was tired of everyone treating her like a stupid child.

"Arya, where are you going?" Sansa tried her best to remain lady-like and even-toned as her sister stalked off. When she got no response, she looked around and saw her two friends Jeyne and Beth. They were motioning her to join them. Curtsying one last time, she took leave of Gaius and the knights.

* * *

Early next morning, the rest of the king's party arrived. Wagon after wagon rolled into the campsite, carting tables and benches, sweetbreads and strawberries, and other preparatory items for the feast. The air was bustling with noise and confusion. Men were shouting, unloading, and leading horses to the temporary stables. The king and Lord Stark had gone hunting, bringing with them most of the older knights. Having no one to spar with, the royal prince Joffrey decided he wanted to practice archery, and a station was set up for him. After the welcoming procession, Merlin and the knights came out of Gaius's tent and walked around. They saw the prince dressed in golden fabrics matching his hair, practicing with a bow and arrow, hitting most marks close to the center. Arthur in particular took an interest and stopped to observe. Suddenly an arrow whizzed past from behind, and hit the bullseye. Turning around, everyone saw Arya grin one of her toothy grins, give a little curtsy, not unlike one of Sansa's, and run off. Nobody however, saw the scowl that decorated Joffrey's face.

"Alright you," Gwaine caught up with the girl at the stables and picked her up in his arms, thwarting her escape. Merlin looked on, eyes twinkling. He could tell from the way Gaius talked about her, Arya was a willful yet adorable little child, and she easily wormed her way into the center of people's hearts. "I'm not sure where you're supposed to be, but it's probably not the stables."

Arya squirmed out of his grasp and hopped onto the ground, "Mycah and I are going to ride upstream and look for rubies on the river banks." Nymeria sprang to her feet as she caught sight of Arya. She nipped eagerly at Arya's hand as the girl untied her. Merlin noticed that the wolf had yellow eyes, which gleamed when the sun caught them. Arya hugged her wolfling tightly, and Nymeria licked her ear, making her giggle.

"Arya, Septa Mordane noted your absence at breakfast," Sansa walked around the corner, her two friends Jeyne and Beth following close behind. Merlin tugged Gwaine to move them out of the way, so the girls could have some privacy, but they were still close enough to hear the conversation.

"I ate in the kitchens, with Mycah," Arya said.

Sansa went to release Lady, "You better put on something pretty, Septa Mordane says the queen has invited mother to bring us for lemon cakes and tea with her and the princess."

"I'm not going. I already told Mycah we'd explore the river banks today."

Sansa was mortified, "You shouldn't be spending so much time with a kitchen boy. And what could you want to explore? It's just muddy and damp down there."

"It is _not_. Prince Rhaegar's rubies are supposed to be there, this is where King Robert killed him and took the crown," Arya said heatedly, offended at the way Sansa talked about her friend.

"The queen herself invited us. And besides, you're not allowed to leave the main camp, Father said so," Sansa insisted.

Arya shrugged, "I won't go far. Besides, Nymeria will be with me."

Sansa didn't respond, as she was now gazing worshipfully at Prince Joffrey, who was walking over—with his golden hair glinting under the sun. "My lady, it would be an honor to escort you to Mother's tent," Joffrey said very formally. A rosy blush crept onto Sansa's pretty face. Feeling abashed, she lowered her eyes to the ground as Lady brushed against her leg.

"Thank you, my prince," Sansa uttered breathlessly as Joffrey moved forward to take her arm. After they left, Jeyne and Beth squealed in delight and whispered to one another.

"What are talking you about?" Arya couldn't resist asking.

Looking around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity, and not seeing Gwaine and Merlin, Jeyne whispered, "Prince Joffrey likes your sister. He told her she was beautiful."

Beth sighed dreamily, "They'll get married one day and Sansa will be queen of the realm."

"He looks like a girl. And he shoots like one too," Arya declared.

* * *

The king and his men brought back more game to roast for the feast at midday. Tables had been piled high with all sorts of luxurious foods. King Robert and his Queen Cersei, sat on a raised dais at the head center and were flanked by seats of high honor on either side. On the left were Lord and Lady Stark, while on the right sat the captain of the Kingsguard, Barristan Selmy, and the queen's twin brother Jaimie Lannister, also a member of the kingsguard. Merlin and knights would be joining Gaius at some of the lower benches farther away. When Merlin saw the queen, his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.

"Get a grip, will you?" Arthur elbowed him.

"What?" Merlin was only half-listening.

"We get it, she's a beautiful woman, but keep staring like that and you'll find yourself without a head upon those lanky shoulders," Arthur warned.

Merlin rolled his eyes, "That's not what I was—"

"That's _exactly_ what you were, _Mur_lin," Arthur laughed.

"Is it just me, or do some of those Lannisters look a bit familiar to you?" Gwaine asked.

"I was _trying_ to point that out," Merlin gave Arthur an exasperated look. All of them began stealing furtive glances at the main table, but it was too far away to see clearly. Throughout the night the general din of the banquet crescendoed, as the flagons of wine diminished. _So this is what it's like to have a day off_, Merlin thought as he sipped his own delicious cup. King Robert was so loud that that they could hear him all the way down by the squires' table. Arya reached across her table to tear off a chicken leg. It was obvious what she was doing as she flung the meat under the table. Sansa was chatting away happily with Jeyne and Beth, no doubt about her magical day with the gallant Prince Joff and the beautiful queen. Merlin saw Arya load a spoon with pigeon pie but wasn't able to yell out in time before the missile launched through the air and onto Sansa's face.

"Arya!" she cried, unable to maintain her decorum. Lord Stark communicated a look at Gaius who promptly went to pick up Arya and remove her from the festivities. Merlin and Lancelot got up to help. Arya's face fell and she shoved a final couple of scraps under the table for Nymeria. Sansa was still complaining as they left, "She always does this! And it's my favorite dress too, I made it recently."

"Now where could these be from young lady?" Gaius pointed at various bruises on Arya's arms and shoulders, splotches of purple, green, and yellow.

"I can't say," Arya said, secretly hoping Gaius might give her something to rub on them.

"You've been practicing with wooden swords haven't you, little sister," Lancelot said knowingly.

"Is that what you turned down the queen's invitation for?" Merlin teased.

Arya scrunched her nose, "I don't like the queen." Merlin became thoughtful. There was something about the golden-haired queen he couldn't quite place his finger on.

"Hush Arya," Gaius cautioned.

"She didn't let Sansa bring Lady to her tent," Arya tried to justify. They had reached Gaius's tent now. "She thinks direwolves are bad omens, and they'll worsen her nightmares." Gaius went to retrieve some yarrow [2] for Arya to rub on her bruises. Merlin meanwhile, stood stock-still. He had realized who Cersei reminded him of and it chilled him to the bone. He'd never forget those piercing green eyes that had watched as he was pummeled to a pulp and suffocated for hours on end.

* * *

[1] 'Hedge knights' are travelling knights that don't owe allegiance to any master, often thought to be very poor

[2] Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) was mentioned in Season 5 Episode 8: The Hollow Queen

**Rather than stating it outright, I'd hoped my writing was clear enough to show that Gaius had met Lancelot many years ago, as a young boy in Winterfell, and convinced him to seek knighthood in Camelot. This is why Lancelot recognized Gaius in Camelot, but since Gaius at that time hadn't travelled back in time yet, he didn't recognize Lancelot. I'd really appreciate some feedback on this! Especially if it wasn't clear.**


	12. Cha 10: Everyone That Isn't Us, Part 2

****Some dialogue take from GoT Season 1 Episode 2: The Kingsroad**

**A/N After re-reading my last chapter, I've concluded that I seem to have some sort of weird obsession with shoulder-clasping. Everyone keeps gripping each other's shoulders, in a super bromantic way of course.**

**On a more serious note, writing this chapter made me cry, cuz it incorporates a scene from GoT that always makes me bawl my eyes out, without fail**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Everyone That Isn't Us Is An Enemy, Part 2  
**_Arya learns a painful lesson. Sir Jorrah Mormont finally makes his appearance._

The Lady Stark retired from the feast early and traveled back to Winterfell, where her sons remained, as only her husband an daughters were going South to King's Landing. Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan didn't return until the moon was high in the sky. Hence Merlin had to shake them awake the next morning.

"Come on, you sleepyheads, we need to go discuss the plan," Merlin shouted cheerfully. Arthur was about a pleasant as a bear, swatting at Merlin in between shakes. Gaius and Lancelot both decided it would be best to discuss things out in the woods, away from prying ears. When the gang was finally awake and ready, they started heading out and saw a small crowd gathering near the Queen's wheelhouse. Sansa had bumped into one of the prince's guards with a half burned face; people called him the Hound.

"Do I frighten you so much, girl?" the man rasped. Sansa seemed paralyzed in the spot but Lady moved in front of her, emitting a low warning rumble. Some people in the crowd were pointing anxiously at the direwolf, others were laughing.

"Ridiculous," Gwaine mumbled under his breath as he started heading in Sansa's direction.

The queen beat him to it though. "Joffrey, go to her," she urged. Cersei's shimmering yellow hair rippled gracefully in the wind, complemented by a jeweled tiara with emeralds that matched the green of her eyes perfectly. Though beautiful, her smile seemed hollow and icy to Merlin.

"What is it, sweet lamb?" Joffrey grazed Sansa's chin with his fingertips. He then glared at the Hound, "Has the Hound frightened you? Away with you, _dog_!" The ever-faithful Hound bowed and slinked away, and the crowd also dispersed.

Gwaine looked positively disgusted, "What a little twit."

Sansa seemed to think differently, "Thank you, my sweet prince."

"The sun is shining, come walk with me," Joffrey extended a hand which Sansa gingerly took. "But leave the wolf here."

Sansa seemed reluctant, "If you like…I suppose I could tie Lady up back at the stables. But is it safe to leave behind…" the girl seemed flustered.

Joffrey seemed annoyed, "Of course it's safe, I am almost a grown man and skillful with a sword." He pointed to a castle-forged longsword at his belt, "I call it Lion's Tooth." Sansa cooed and exclaimed with admiration, which seemed to please Joffrey.

Arthur had a disdainful look on his face, but not wanting to waste any more time, he directed the group to head towards the forest. "Well?" Arthur turned to his side as they began walking and looked at Merlin expectantly.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"_What_, I deserve, is an apology," Arthur said indignantly.

"For…what? Exactly?" Merlin smirked, having an idea of where this was going.

"For all the times you called me a prat, an ass, a _dollop_-head, whatever that is, or any other of the hundreds of names you have made up over the years. Because they are much more deservedly applied to that unrefined little princeling."

"Well you two do share a lot of similarities, such as that shiny golden hair you like to toss around, a penchant for showing off, and the gross mistreatment of your servants."

"Gross mistreatment?! Do you see Joffrey's servants calling him dollop-head?"

"Alright, alright, you're a better master. Over the years my well-timed name-calling has honed you into a much more refined prince. I probably deserve a reward," Merlin suggested.

"He was wrought of superior metal to begin with," Lancelot lauded from behind, "You can only work with what you have-can't hone dirt into steel." When they finally reached the cover of the forest, Lancelot finally began filling them in on the information he'd gleaned. "Jorrah Mormont was once a knight here in Westeros. He was caught selling slaves to poachers to pay for debts which he claims were incurred by through attempting to obtain dragon eggs. No one knows why he was searching for these. He is thought to be currently living as an exile in the Free Cities, but there is speculation that he has joined forces with Daenerys."

_Clack. Clack. Clack-clack-clack. Clack._

"Do you hear that?" Elyan put his hand up.

Merlin closed his eyes and followed the source of the noise with his mind magic. "We're close to a clearing by the river," he said. Arthur stole a brief glance at Merlin, almost imperceptible, which bore a mixture of bemusement and wariness. He then made a couple hand gestures to the knights that said, _Move forward on my lead, but stay out of sight._ The knights inched forward until they were behind some shrubbery on the edge of the clearing. Clacking away at each other with wooden sticks were none other than Arya and Mycah. Arya, scrawny thing that she was, parried some of the attacks and dodged most of them, but not all. From the other edge of the clearing, a red-haired girl walked in behind a boy wearing black leathers with ornate silver flourishes woven into the fabric. Upon spotting them, Mycah froze in terror and dropped his stick, allowing Arya to lunge forward and catch him on the arm.

"Arya!" Sansa yelled incredulously.

Spinning around, Arya shouted back, "What are you doing here? Go away!"

"Who are you, boy?" Joffrey sneered at Mycah.

"His name is Mycah, and he's my friend," Arya had hot, angry tears welling at her yes.

"He's the butcher's boy," Sansa said.

"Oh? A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight?" Joffrey asked condescendingly. "Why don't you pick up your sword, _butcher's boy_? How would you like to fight a _real_ knight?"

"She asked me to, m'lord, she asked me to," Mycah trembled.

"Leave him alone!" Arya shouted, panting heavily. Joffrey removed Lion's Tooth from its scabbard and laid the tip of his sword against Mycah's cheek. He slowly pressed down until the sword drew blood, seeming amused as Mycah winced in pain. "RAHH!" unable to control her rage, Arya had struck out and hit Joffrey with her wooden stick. Mycah ran off.

Whirling around in fury, Joffrey swung his sword wildly and nearly slashed into Arya but she dodged backwards a couple steps. Her feet fumbled however, and she lost her balance, grunting as she tumbled to the ground. Joffrey was on her immediately, shoving his sword into her face with each utterance, "Filthy little beast! I'll gut you, you little—AHH! AH!"

Nymeria came leaping forth from down the river and bit right into Joffrey's sword arm, tackling him down to the ground as she did so.

"Arya," Sansa was shrieking

"Nymeria!" Arya screamed, and ran forward to grab her wolf off of the prince. After prying him off, Joffrey was seen cradling a bloody mess against his chest. Arya snatched the sword away and stared hatefully at him.

"No, please. Please, don't hurt me," Joffrey whimpered, eyeing his Lion's Tooth. Arya seemed confused for a moment, but after a pause, she shook her head disgustedly, walked to the river and flung the sword in with all her might. Then she took off into the woods, Nymeria bounding along after her.

The whole scene of events had transpired so quickly that Arthur only just now sprang into action. "Merlin, Gwaine, come look for Arya with me. Lancelot, you need to let Lord Stark know what happened. Elyan and Percival, inform Gaius." Gwaine hardly needed any urging, as he was already sprinting off almost before Arthur finished. Merlin again closed his eyes and concentrated on Arya, moving his mind's eye through a trail in the forest. She hadn't strayed far, and within a minute he'd found her, crouched beneath the roots of an old tree. He started off her direction and Arthur fell in step behind him, wordlessly.

"Arya," he tried to keep his voice low as he yelled out. The girl whipped her head around, eyes darting back and forth wildly. Her lower lip was trembling.

"Merlin?"

"Arya, hey, it's ok. It's ok." Merlin, Gwaine and Arthur jogged over to the little girl. Now that her adrenaline had subsided, the panic started setting in and Arya began hyperventilating. Her speech was interspersed with convulsive sharp intakes of breath.

"They'll-_hic_-they'll kill Nymeria. _Hic-hic_. They'll kill-_hic_-Nymeria. _Hic-hic-hic_." Sensing her owner's distress, the direwolf tried to nuzzle her cheek.

"We are NOT going to let that happen," Arthur assured.

"_Hic_. But I told her-_hic_-to leave, and she doesn't understand," Arya cried.

"Well, we'll keep trying. Come on, get up. We'll run with her, farther out," Merlin suggested. Arya's spirits seemed to improve marginally, as her breathing slowed, and the four began to follow the river further North.

"_Hic_. What'll she eat out here? _Hic_. Does she know how to hunt?" Arya worried.

"Oh, don't you worry. The woods are full of game. She'll know how to hunt that deer as well as she knew to protect you," Gwaine ruffled her hair. "And she'll have plenty of other wolves to play with." They reached a denser thicket of the woods.

"We shouldn't go beyond this point," Arthur said.

"Go on, Nymeria. _Hic_. Go play with the other wolves. Go!" Arya shooed the wolf. Nymeria cocked her head to the side. "Be free now!" Arya picked up a rock and ran towards the wolf, but this merely made Nymeria take a reluctant couple of steps away. Merlin picked up a stick and threw it into the bushes, but Nymeria just watched it go, then turned back to face them. _I'm not leaving_, her stubborn expression seemed to say. Arthur picked up a smaller stone and threw it towards her, but careful not to hit her. The direwolf was unfazed. Finally Arya threw the rock in her hand, which bounced off Nymeria's flank. The direwolf flinched and began whining. Together, they shooed her away using the rock-throwing method, as gently as it was possible to do. By the time those gleaming gold eyes finally disappeared into the darkness, distant shouts could be heard. Hidden in the dark now, Arya let her tears flow freely.

"We should head back to camp," Arthur said gently.

* * *

The guards at the entrance refuse to let Arya back in the camp. One of them ran off and soon returned with a battalion of Lannister men.

"Arya Stark, you are to report to the King's tent," one of the gold-armored guards bellowed. Arthur and Gwaine moved in front of her protectively, causing the battalion to tense. Some men drew their swords.

"Put away those swords!" called out a strong and graceful old man. "Pulling your weapons out to handle a little girl…shameful." His armor was as white as his hair, and he wore the white cloak of the Kingsguard. This man was the captain of the Kingsguard and a highly skilled swordsman, unparalleled in the capital. "Sir Barristan Selmy at your service, if you would please, the King is waiting," he announced to Arya. Commanding an air of respect, the knight parted through the wall of people and guided Arya away from the gate. Once in the king's tent, Arya was brought to the front of the room, before the royal family. The king appeared grave and sullen, the queen seethed with icy hatred, Joffrey stood with his arm wrapped in silken bandages, staring off to the side.

"Arya!" Ned Stark came rushing in from the back of the tent. Behind him came Gaius, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival. Arthur, Gwaine, and Merlin stepped off to the side to give them space.

Arthur sighed and whispered to Merlin, "How could such a small, skinny girl cause so much trouble?"

"S'not her that's the problem, it's the fact that nobles think they can do whatever they want to whoever they want, and get away with it," Gwaine muttered bitterly.

"Father," Arya began to sob as Ned took her in his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Ned stroked her hair and turned to face the king.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked Robert angrily. "Why was she not brought to me at once?"

Queen Cersei lashed out, "How _dare_ you speak to your king in that manner."

"_Quiet_, woman," Robert snapped. "I am sorry, Ned. I didn't mean to frighten the girl, but we need to get this business done quickly."

"Your girl and that butcher's boy attacked my son. That _animal_ of hers nearly tore his arm off," Cersei accused.

"That's NOT true!" Arya said loudly. "She just…bit him…a little. He was hurting Mycah."

"Joff told us what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's NOT what happened!" Arya was close to tears again.

"Yes it is," Joffrey insisted, refusing to look at Arya, "They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river."

"LIAR!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Enough!" boomed Robert's voice, clearly irritated. "She tells me one thing, he says another. Seven hells, what am I to make of this?"

Lancelot stepped forward, "If I may, Your Grace, my fellow knights and I were—"

"Knights?" scoffed the queen's twin brother, Jaime. "That's a bit overqualified don't you think?"

"A bastard and a couple of beggar knights? We are speaking amongst trueborn nobles right now. The king should have your head for speaking out of turn," Cersei's voice was soft yet her words stung like a whip. Gaius nudged Lancelot back, shaking his head, this wasn't a battle they could win. They had no standing in this court.

Robert closed his eyes and squeezed his temples, "Where's your other daughter Ned?"

"Bring her over," Cersei indicated to a couple of the Lannister guards at the back of the tent. Sansa's own eyes were red-rimmed and she looked scared as she was brought forward. "Sansa, darling, tell the king what you saw."

Sansa slowly lifted her eyes from the ground and looked at King Robert. She then looked hopefully at Joffrey, who refused to return the gaze. "I-I'm not s-sure," she began meekly, "I don't remember…it happened so fast."

"LIAR!" Arya screamed. "LIAR LIAR LIAR!" she grabbed Sansa's hair and pulled, shaking her sister with rage. Ned had to rush over and pull her off. Merlin could've sworn he saw the corner of Cersei's lips curve upward.

"She's as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished," the queen demanded in an icy voice.

"Damn it, she's a child! What would have me _do_? Whip her through the streets?" Robert asked exasperatedly, the shook his head, clearly fed up with the situation, "Children fight. It's over."

The queen narrowed her eyes, "Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life," she hissed. The king shifted forward in his seat and turned his head to look at Joffrey.

"You let that…_little girl_…disarm you." He stared Joffrey a long time, causing his son to shift uncomfortably. Finally, he heaved a great sigh, "Ned, see to it that your child is disciplined, and I'll the same with mine."

"Thank you, my lord," Ned breathed a sigh a relief.

"And what of the beast that savaged your son?" Cersei continued to clutch on tightly, refusing to let the Starks come away unscathed.

"Your Grace, we searched the hills, and found no sign of the direwolf," Barristan Selmy reported.

"So be it." Robert was already getting up and walking away.

"We have another wolf," Cersei said quietly, her green eyes shining triumphantly.

"As you will," Robert assented begrudgingly and continued walking towards the exit.

"Robert, you cannot mean this? " Ned protested.

"A direwolf is no pet Ned, it would have turned on her anyway. Get your daughter a dog, she'll be happier for it."

Realization slowly dawned on Sansa, "He doesn't mean Lady? Does he?" Ned gave her a pained look. Arya put her hand on her sister's arm. "No…b-but Lady didn't _bite_ anyone!" ire seeped into her soft and gentle voice as she protested the unjustness of the sentence.

Arya stepped out in front of Sansa, "Lady wasn't there," she shouted angrily, "YOU leave her alone!"

Sansa looked to the queen and her prince for mercy, but they stared at her through a mask of indifference. "Please, don't let them do this." Sansa grabbed onto her father's arm, "Please, stop them, _please_ Father." The whole room was awash with pity for the young girl.

"Is this your command, Robert?" Ned's own voice was on the verge of shaking. The king didn't say anything for awhile.

"Damn you, Cersei," he spat at the queen, and left.

"Where is the direwolf?" Cersei demanded.

"Chained up by the stables, Your Grace," Barristan Selmy reluctantly offered.

"Send for the executioner," she commanded.

"No!" Arya cried.

"No," Ned echoed. He then looked to Gaius and Lancelot. "Take the girls back to their room." Stepping towards Cersei until he was a sword's length away, he said in a low voice "If it must be done, then I'll do it myself."

Cersei smirked, "Is this some trick?"

"The wolf is of the North. She deserves to die by a Northerner's hand." Having said that, Ned turned on his feet and walked out of the tent. Huge droplets of tears were now flowing freely from Sansa's eyes as she wept bitterly. Gwaine shoved one of the Lannister men out of the way and hugged her close, pulling Arya in too, who was glaring at Joffrey. Merlin's heart ached for them, and judging from his friends' faces, the feeling was mutual.

Arthur grabbed him, "Come on," and followed Lord Stark out the tent, Sansa's wails reverberating in the air behind them. They found Ned sitting quietly on the ground next to Lady, who was gentle and well-behaved, as always, just like her owner.

He ran his hand through her thick fur, "Lady." He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time, "Sansa chose her name well. For Lady is the smallest of her litter, and the prettiest, and most trusting." Arthur and Merlin stood by him, offering silent comfort. Ned withdrew his blade from his scabbard, and in a second the deed was done. Lady gave only a small whimper. Merlin's eyes stung and he felt a jolt of coldness rush through his body. Just when he thought he could not feel any worse, the Hound walked past the stables, leading his horse, with a limp form draped over the saddle. It was the butcher's boy, Mycah, and he was covered in dried blood. His head had been nearly severed from his body at the neck.

"You hunted him down?" Arthur had a quiet anger in his voice.

"He ran," the Hound laughed, "but not very fast."

* * *

The moon was again high in the sky, but this night its light was cast over a sorrowful group. Merlin and the knights rode into the woods on their horses, which seemed to know the way. Merlin was trying to keep alert, in case this Mormont character turned out to be some sort of sorcerer, but he was have trouble concentrating. _Direwolves are magical creatures, it's not unusual that you might feel a strong bond with them,_ Gaius had reasoned. _A bond that was severed by death,_ Merlin thought, _and a needless one at that_.

"This kind of nonsense will never be allowed in Camelot," Arthur said.

"But direwolves are considered magical creatures," Merlin noted darkly. Arthur looked at Merlin and didn't say anything.

Finally he shrugged, "They seemed like brave and regal creatures to me. Magical or not, I just know they're not evil."

"Evil doesn't come from magic, it comes from people," Gwaine said frowning, his brows furrowed deeply. The image of Cersei's triumphant green eyes burned hotly in everyone's minds.

The horses had again reached the clearing where Arya and Mycah had been that morning. Thinking of the butcher's boy brought another pang of guilt to Arthur's heart, why hadn't he remembered to send someone after him? There was a knight by the river, sitting atop a fine horse. His armor was a deep forest-green, and his back was to them. When the man turned around, Arthur nearly fell off his horse. "Father?"


	13. Cha 11: To Each His Own

**A/N Okay! I've decided to set up a magic reveal in the next chapter (following this one). I'm going to attempt some action and whump again. I welcome suggestions or requests, send them in! I want to deliver something satisfying :), but it might take me longer this time to write an update. My goal is the end of this week.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: To Each His Own  
**_Lancelot and Elyan sail to Essos with Jorrah, Arthur and Percival search for dragonglass. Merlin, Gwaine, and Gaius head to King's Landing._

There was no other word to describe Arthur's expression other than flabbergasted. Uther/Jorrah got off the horse and walked over.

"King Uther?" Merlin asked tentatively.

"Yes, that is what I was called in another place, another time," he said. "But please, for now I am just Jorrah, as I have been the past fifteen years. Merlin gulped, the sight of the magic-hating monarch still spiked fear and discomfort in him.

"Fine by me, but tell us, uh, Jorrah, what happened?" Gwaine asked.

Jorrah sighed, "A great deal, but for time's sake, I shall try to condense to the most salient points." Jaqen, the yellow-eyed man who had appeared in Uther's room, told him he was being given a chance to atone for his atrocious crimes committed against magical beings. "I cannot age, I have been this way for the last fifteen years, and I will be stuck in this form until my mission is complete. At that point my 'salvation' shall be upon me, but it is unclear what that will be. At first my motivations were fear-based, but as I have watched the young Targaryen girl grow, I find that I am loyal to her out of great respect."

Poor Arthur looked like he was close to popping a blood vessel in his brain. "Ok…can you repeat that part about, um, everything?"

"My sins against magic are great, but I know I have also failed you as a father, Arthur. Please forgive me because I don't think I'll get a chance at that again, neither for you nor Morgana. And that brings me to some more important information and messages for you. First, Morgana and Morgause have been reincarnated as Queen Cersei Lannister and Sir Jaime Lannister, thanks to an enchantment cast by Morgause with her final dying breaths." Here Uther glanced briefly at Merlin, but continued without addressing him, "By the terms of her enchantment, if they manage to seize the iron throne and kill Robert Baratheon, and all of his heirs, they will regain their past memories and become more powerful than before. Stopping this chain of events will be a critical portion of your quest."

"Wait, so we're supposed to help Daenerys, but also prevent Robert and Joffrey from getting killed? They are at odds with each other," Gwaine pointed out.

"I am not permitted to clarify any further, but I will repeat, your directive is to protect the Baratheon bloodline. At this juncture, Arthur and Percival are to travel North along the river and retrieve a dagger of dragonglass. It will be buried near the legendary location of Prince Rhaegar's rubies. Now, Sir Lancelot and Sir Elyan, you shall come with me to Essos for a different portion of the quest. I have a ship waiting for us at the Bay of Crabs. Our objective at this point is to help Daenery's retrieve the last remaining dragon eggs in the City of Winged Men. Merlin and Gwaine, you must proceed to King's Landing and find a boy named Gendry."

"Ok, and what are we supposed to do with him?" Merlin asked.

"Keep him alive."

"Anything more? Maybe like, brush his hair? Fold his clothes?"

"The answer will become clear to you when the time is right."

"Oh great, more riddles. Super helpful, uh…Your Grace," Merlin corrected himself. Jorrah stood silently and stared at him, his expression unreadable. Merlin gulped again and felt uneasy.

"_Jorrah_, if you don't mind, I'd like a private word with you?" Arthur guided his horse further along the river bank and motioned Jorrah to follow. After they'd gotten out of earshot, Arthur couldn't hold back any longer, "Father what in bloody hell has happened? Have you gone completely mad?"

"I have lived a whole other lifetime, Arthur. I see the world differently now, but my love for you still burns brightly as it did the day you were born. It guides my actions." Jorrah looked off into the distance, "It pains me what I did to Morgana, with my ignorance, but I am at least now helping to set the stage for you bright future. You must trust me Arthur, and do as you are bid."

Meanwhile, as father and son spoke in private, Lancelot sidled his horse over to Gwaine. "Elyan has helped me write down the specifications for the construction of a sword that I'd like to have forged for Arya [1]. Please bring this with you to King's Landing and have it made for her." Gwaine took the parchment and nodded.

Jorrah trotted back towards the group. "I will be back in this same location in four months' time, you will meet me again when your tasks are completed and we will travel to Essos." Arthur nodded his approval and directed the men to follow Jorrah's directives exactly, so the group split up.

* * *

By the time Merlin and Gwaine rode through the towering gates at King's Landing, they were sore, hungry, and tired. They hardly took notice of the colorful sights and sounds that greeted them as they entered the capital. As they dismounted, Gaius urged them to find lodging at a local tavern.

"Best idea I've heard all day," Gwaine said.

"Alright, um, according to one of the traders we passed on the road, the options are: The Dirty Goat, The Serpent's Den, The Nauti Mermaid, and The Prancing Pony...wow what's with these names?" Merlin scratched his head.

"I like the sound of Nauti Mermaid."

"Riiight then," Merlin nodded skeptically, and gave Gwaine a mischievous smirk. The tavern was located, unsurprisingly, by the docks. As they walked through the muddy streets, Merlin saw a chubby boy carrying a bag of flour into a bakery and another boy carefully balancing a huge jar of blue dye as he walked, but the liquid still kept sloshing over the top.

"Gonna drop it Lommy!" the chubby boy jeered.

"Shut up Hotpie!"

Merlin smiled and reminisced about his own childhood memories in Ealdor, running through the forests with Will from dawn to dusk.

"We can see about Arya's sword here, maybe tomorrow," Gwaine pointed at an armorer's shop. Merlin nodded, recalling their midnight forest rendezvous with Jorrah Mormont. Before riding off with Lancelot and Elyan, the exiled knight had left Merlin with some final words, _I am grateful for the loyalty you have shown Arthur. Please, when the time comes, I implore you to be merciful with Morgana. She was my daughter, and all her wrongdoing derived from the sins of her father._ Merlin oscillated back and forth between horror and confusion until finally, he landed shakily on acceptance of the idea that Jorrah/Uther knew about his magic. _You will let Arthur know in your own time. But, don't delay too long. You will be doing yourself a disservice._ Unfortunately, there had been no time for a private moment with Arthur before the group split up. So now Merlin was racking his brain to come up with an approach for revealing his ultimate secret to Arthur in a non-upsetting fashion and at the opportune moment, but hopefully as soon as possible. It was about as pleasant as vomiting a toad.

* * *

"What a bizarre stroke of luck!" Gwaine had his hands in his pockets and was sauntering along blithely next to Merlin as they made their way towards the citadel where Gaius and the rest of the Stark household were staying. It was a couple days later and Merlin was carrying a newly forged rapier sword that was sheathed in in a scabbard of supple brown leather. The hilt was beautifully ornate, surrounded by complex, sweeping rings that shielded the wielder's hand. This well-crafted piece of work had been produced by the armorer's apprentice, a scruffy-looking thirteen-year old named Gendry. _His work is near indistinguishable from castle-forged weapons!_ the shop owner had claimed.

"I'm not really sure where we're supposed to do…now that we've found Gendry. Should we go help Arthur perhaps?" Merlin was worried, the prince had a knack for getting himself into nasty predicaments.

Gwaine turned to his side and gave Merlin a lopsided smile, "You're like a mother hen Merlin, good lord, Arthur's a big boy."

"Hah, if there had been a mother hen to teach Arthur manners when he was younger, perhaps he wouldn't be so much of a prat now." As they reached the gates to the citadel, the guards blocked them.

"What's your business?" one of them asked.

"We're here to see the maester of the Stark household," Merlin responded. The guards sent a little squire running to notify Gaius.

The physician looked somber when he came to fetch them, "I am glad you've come. Arya continues to sulk and hardly eats. She listens to no one but her father. If she goes on like this…"

"I don't blame her," Gwaine clenched his jaw, remembering her tear-streaked face when she saw Mycah.

"Maybe this'll cheer her up," Merlin held up the rags covering Arya's sword. Gaius cocked an eyebrow. "It's a gift." When they reached the castle, Gaius guided them upstairs to the solar room [2], where Arya and Sansa sat eating breakfast with Septa Mordane.

"Enough of that young lady," Septa Mordane said. Arya was jabbing a cutlery knife against the table, creating nicks and cuts on the surface.

"I'm practicing," Arya's brows were furrowed in concentration.

"Practicing for what?" Sansa asked.

"The prince," Arya looked at her hatefully.

"Arya!" Septa Mordane exclaimed.

"He's a liar and coward! And he killed my friend," Arya felt tears stinging her eyes and she rubbed them away angrily.

"The Hound killed your friend," Sansa argued.

"The Hound _does_ whatever the prince tells him to."

"You're an idiot."

"You're a liar, and if you told the truth, Mycah would still be alive," Arya stabbed the sword forcefully into the wood and jumped up from the table.

"Pray, where do you think you are going, young lady?" Septa Mordane asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have scarcely touched your food. You will sit down and clean your plate."

"You clean it!" Not wanting to let anyone see her cry, Arya bolted from the room.

"Insolent child! Your father will hear of this!" Septa Mordane's voice became shrill and Gaius walked over to calm the poor woman down. This gave Gwaine and Merlin a chance to slip away.

"Go away!" they heard, as Merlin knocked on Arya's door.

"Arya, it's us, Merlin and Gwaine," Merlin tried. After a long delay, Arya cracked her door open.

"We come bearing a gift," Merlin showed her the bundle in his hands. Arya opened the door wider and walked over to the window, ignoring them. "Gwaine, better close the door," Merlin directed. Arya turned around, her interest piqued. Her eyes widened as she saw Merlin lift up the blade and hand it over to her. "Your brother wanted you to have it. We got it made at the best armory in the city just a couple days ago."

Arya removed the blade from its scabbard, staring at the gleaming blue steel with wonderment. "It's so skinny."

"So are you," Gwaine said, pinching her arms. "But it can poke a man full of holes if you're fast enough."

"I can be fast," Arya said jumping up to give Gwaine a hug.

"All the best swords have names," Merlin told her, as she ran over to hug him as well.

Arya paused a moment, "Sansa can have her needles, I've got a Needle of my own now."

"Arya?" there was a gentle knock at the door. It was Lord Stark.

"You've got to hide!" Arya whispered to Merlin and Gwaine. They spun around wildly before deciding to scuttle under the bed.

"Open the door, we need to talk." Ned's tone seemed more sad than angry. Arya walked over and opened the door. "Whose sword is that?"

"Mine."

"Give it to me," Ned said sternly. He examined the weapon, "Where did you get this?" Arya looked to the ground and did not respond. Ned sighed, "This is no toy. A little lady shouldn't play with swords."

"I wasn't playing. And I don't want to be a lady," Arya said defiantly.

Ned tried but could not resist smiling as he regarded his fierce little daughter. "Come here," he sat down at the foot of the bed and patted the area next to him. "Now what do you want with this?"

Arya folded her hands and stared at her lap, "It's called Needle."

"Mmm, a blade with a name. And who were you hoping to _skewer_ with Needle? Your sister?" At this Arya let out a small grin. "Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?"

"Stick 'em with the pointy end," Arya replied quickly. Ned finally burst out in laughter and Arya's face broke out in a wide smile. But her face fell again, suddenly, sadness clouding her eyes. "I was trying to learn." Her voice soft and low, "I asked Mycah to practice with me. I asked him. It was my fault." The grief came on all at once, and Arya put her face in her hands, sobbing.

"No, sweet girl, no, no," Ned put his arms around her and hugged her close, "You didn't kill the butcher's boy."

"I hate them! All of them. The Hound. The queen, _and_ the king. And Joffrey…and Sansa,"

"Sansa was dragged before the king and queen, and asked to call the prince a liar," Ned explained.

"So was I! He _is_ a liar," Arya contended.

"Shh darling, listen to me: Sansa will be married to Joffrey one day, she cannot betray him. She must take his side, even when he's wrong."

"But…how can you let her marry someone like that?" Arya asked hesitantly.

Ned was momentarily lost for words. He hugged Arya again, "We all lie. Or did you truly think I'd believe that Nymeria ran off?"

Arya's face reddened, "Merlin and Gwaine promised not to tell."

"They kept their word. But even a blind man could see that wolf would never have left you willingly."

Arya's sniffling renewed with gusto, "We had to throw rocks. I told her to go be free, that I didn't want her anymore. Gwaine said the woods were full of game and she'd know how to hunt. But she wouldn't go, and finally we had to throw rocks. I hit her twice and she whined. I felt so ashamed, but I didn't want the queen to kill her, and she would have, right?"

"You were right. And even the lie was not without honor." Ned gazed into his daughter's eyes, "Arya, I need to try to explain some things to you. I don't want to frighten you, but I won't lie to you either, we've come to a dangerous place. In the long, hard winter, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Right now is not the time for squabbles, we must protect one another, keep each other warm. If you must hate, hate those who would truly mean us ill. Sansa…Sansa is your sister."

Arya looked at her father's sad face guiltily, "I don't hate her, not really," she relented.

"This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience—it cannot continue. It is time to begin growing up." Ned looked down at Needle, then handed it back to Arya, "Go on," he handed the sword back to her, "He's yours."

"I can keep it?" Arya asked.

"Try not to stab your sister with it," Ned chortled and walked over to the door, "If you're going to own a sword, you better know how to use it."

* * *

The next day Merlin and Gwaine sat in the Small Hall eating a late breakfast. They had stayed the evening with Gaius to discuss the armorer's apprentice, Gendry. Gaius suspected that Gendry might be a bastard of King Robert, who had a reputation for straying frequently from his marriage. _If that is the case, there are multiple parties that may want to kill him._ Gaius had reasoned. Still, it was a puzzling situation that didn't have a clear answer and they didn't manage to reach any solid conclusions.

The trestle tables had been cleared and the benches moved to the walls to create a large open space in the middle, where Arya was swishing her Needle back and forth. "Ow!" she cried. Merlin and Gwaine rushed over to see a wooden blade bounce off Arya's arm and clatter at her feet.

"You are too slow, boy!" a bald man clicked his teeth together and strode forward.

"Who are you?" Arya asked.

"I am your 'dancing' master, Syrio. Now pick it up and let's begin. Tomorrow you will catch it," the man held a wooden blade in his own hands and used it to point at the one at Arya's feet. Arya picked up it up and gave a few experimental slashes.

Syrio walked past Merlin and whispered, "A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole [3]. It is time to tell him who you are. Go find him, he is in danger."

In the blink of an eye, Merlin saw Syrio's eyes become yellow, but in the next blink it was gone. It was enough for Merlin to recognize him though, "Jaqen?"

* * *

[1] Elyan's father was a blacksmith, and they mentioned in the show that he had some of those skills as well.

[2] Solar = a loft or upper room in a medieval house

[3] Merlin Season 2 Episode 2: Valiant

**some dialogue from various scenes in GoT Season 1 Episode 3


	14. Cha 12: Difference Between Life & Death

**Chapter 12: The Difference Between Life and Death**  
_Merlin faces his greatest fear and meets with some surprises. Gaius has an unsettling encounter with the Lannisters._

Gaius watched Merlin as he dashed about madly packing up his things, "The final battle between Robert's army and the Targaryens was fought at the Trident, where numerous tributaries of the North converge into one great river. Here Robert Baratheon slayed Prince Rhaegar, son of the Mad King, and according to legend, the rubies from his crown fell and became entrenched on the muddy banks of the Trident. That's where Arthur would have been looking for the dragonglass dagger."

"Gaius, don't worry about us, you need go back to the Citadel and attend to Percival," Merlin insisted.

_*****Earlier that day*****_

Moments after Merlin had recognized Jaqen H'ghar (in some sort of disguise) as Arya's sword fighting teacher, the sound of hoofbeats reached the main door of the small hall. The Hound was at the door, followed by a number of soldiers. Slumped across one of the horses was a bloody figure.

"Percival!" Gwaine rushed over. Gaius dispatched a couple of Stark men to retrieve a stretcher.

"Found him during a patrol mission. We've been tracking some riverland marauders up near the Trident," the Hound grunted. "One of my men recognized him."

"What did you do to him?" Gwaine growled. The Hound stared down from his mount silently. By a now a few other guards had trotted over, among then Sir Jaime Lannister, the queen's twin brother. White cloak and golden hair billowing in the wind, he'd have looked extraordinarily handsome if not for the disdainful smirk on his face.

"Slave traders probably got the other one," Jaime drawled, with a bored expression on his face, "They've been kidnapping people and shuttling them onto ships at the Bay of Crabs nearby. Able-bodied slaves will fetch a handsome price across the Narrow Sea." Merlin tried to search the knight's face for any flicker recognition, but found none. If Morgause was in there somewhere, she was still dormant.

"Gwaine, Merlin, can you give me a hand?" Gaius pointed at the stretcher that had now arrived. Surveying Percival's unconscious form, he decided that the worst injury was on the right leg, which was jutting out at a strange angle. "I'll need some splints and lots of bandages."

"This one looks about as good as dead. Probably why he wasn't taken," Jaime mused, his cold smile an exact replica of Cersei's. Gwaine shot him a scathing look as he lifted the stretcher towards Gaius's chambers.

_*****Present*****_

"His pulse was thready but I believe he's out of immediate danger," Gaius sighed, "I've reset his leg bone but I fear he'll carry a limp for the rest of his life."

Merlin felt a chill rush through his body. What kind of condition was Arthur in? Knowing him, he would not have gone down without a fight. "Gwaine, meet me at the stables when you're ready? I'll prep the horses," Merlin wanted to cast a temporary enchantment on the horses to make them go faster. He also wanted to see if there was enough of a signal for him to track Arthur's location with his mind magic.

"Sure, go do your Merlin thing," Gwaine said, but Merlin was already out the door and rushing down tavern stairs—otherwise he might have found Gwaine's reply to be odd. When Merlin got to the stables, he saw Syrio leaned against a pillar. His nose was straight where Jaqen H'ghar's had been crooked, his face was devoid of marks where Jaqen's bore a scar beneath the right eye, and he stood a foot shorter than Merlin whereas Jaqen had been taller. But the eyes, now yellow again, were unmistakable.

Merlin walked over to the elusive man and stared, not saying anything for a few minutes, "Kilgharrah."

Jaqen shook his head, "Kilgharrah is dead. He gave his life to help realize a prophecy. But his vast knowledge and memories live inside me."

"Who are you?"

"I am no one. I am everyone. I am a Faceless Man."

"What is it you want?" Merlin still couldn't make out whether this man was friend or a foe.

"I am merely a vessel, through which powers greater than you or I can have influence over the shape of events and how a prophecy unfolds."

"Will these powers help me save Arthur? His survival is guaranteed by the terms of the prophecy is it not?"

"There are no guarantees in this world. Prophecies are merely predictions of one possible future."

"So if I fail, then it's all over?"

"Do not let a dragon's sacrifice be in vain."

At the sound of boots crunching against hay, Merlin looked over to see Gwaine walking over, but when he turned back around, Jaqen was gone.

* * *

Over the next two days, Merlin and Gwaine rushed back to the campsite where they had last seen Arthur. From there, the search began in earnest. The Hound had told them the location where he found Percival, so Merlin and Gwaine began venturing in that direction. There were a number of small villages and settlements scattered throughout these riverlands, and the local residents relayed frightening accounts of recent occurrences.

"Bunch of savages… pick the strong and ship them off, keep the weak or old ones around to torture and kill for sport." Apparently these bandits used to be a disparate group of hill tribes, then a couple months back something caused them to leave the mountains and band together, proceeding to raid and pillage entire towns. A traveling bard swore he heard screams emanating from Harrenhall, a deserted castle that was not far away.

Merlin's enchantment on the horses had worn off, and the animals were beyond exhausted. Gwaine suggested they travel the rest of the way on foot, "It's not far any way, and we'll be stealthier." So they paid the innkeeper to have their horses watered, fed, and taken care of in the stables. They were close enough now where Merlin could sense Arthur using his mind, and what he saw was not promising. The bandits were still in the forest, sitting around a campfire. Arthur and a number of other slaves had iron collars attached to their necks, from which hung chains linked to cuffs around their wrists.

"Gwaine can we hurry?" Merlin shifted anxiously from one foot to another.

"What? You mean you want to leave now? At dusk?" Gwaine asked incredulously. He sighed when he saw the determined look on Merlin's face. There was no convincing him otherwise when he was in that state. "Alright, let me just make sure to grab some supplies off the horses."

It wasn't that Merlin didn't feel the same reservations as Gwaine, but his worry spurred a restless urgency. He could almost hear Gaius in his head, _Merlin this isn't a good idea, it's too dangerous_. "You wanted stealth right? Darkness will afford us better cover," Merlin justified, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

The path through the forest was clearly demarcated by evidence of a large group trampling through it, with branches hacked away and numerous footprints in the mud. Merlin could almost make out smoke rising from a fire when suddenly, Gwaine gave a shout behind him. Merlin spun around to see the knight stuck knee-deep in a patch of quicksand.

"Don't panic, try not to struggle, it'll make you sink faster," Merlin grabbed the longest stick he could find and rushed over to the edges of the quicksand, "Just reach your hands over and grab on."

"It's not long enough!" Gwaine was now covered up to his chest. Merlin reached out as far as he could but was still coming up just a little short.

"Forþgelæde! [1]" Merlin whispered and willed the stick to grow longer, hoping that Gwaine was too preoccupied to be looking at Merlin's eyes. At first nothing happened. Then almost imperceptibly, the stick stretched a tiny amount—to the untrained eye it just looked like Merlin had reached out a bit further.

"Got it!" Gwaine yelled, and Merlin began to heave with all his might. He dug his heels into the ground and pulled so hard that the stick began scraping the skin off his hands. By the time Gwaine was back on solid ground, Merlin was drenched in sweat, panting heavily. Just as he sat up, Merlin heard a whizzing sound, almost like a mosquito, but louder. He felt a sharp pain on his right shoulder and looked down to see a small dart buried there, but before he could react, he lost consciousness.

* * *

"This one's too scraggly-looking, won't be worth the clothes on his back."

Merlin blinked. His arms were being held up by two men, one on each side, and his head was slumped against his chest. "Skoro syt ñuhon jēda mazemā? [2]" a rough, nasal voice barked in some foreign language.

"Master Krasnys says you may keep him," a teenage-sounding girl translated, "We will return to Harrenhall in a month for the ones we couldn't fit on the ship this time." The pitter-patter of retreating footsteps was followed by the sound of horses galloping away.

"We've got entertainment for tonight boys! One bloody death coming up!" someone roared, and Merlin felt himself being dragged along the ground.

"No! Let him go!" Arthur's panicked voice rang out close by. Merlin heard a dull thud followed by scuffling noises.

"You're friend over here is gonna pay for that," someone growled. Merlin looked over and saw a giant brute wrestle Arthur to the ground—others quickly piled on.

"Make this one last a little longer!" someone shouted from the crowd. Merlin felt someone attach irons to his wrists and drag him over a grating. _Clang!_ Someone had popped open a latch on the grating. Merlin was fully awake by now and tried to struggle, but it was too late. Grubby hands shoved him from behind and he fell into a deep pit underneath the metal grating.

"Oompf!" Merlin groaned as he hit the ground.

"Get the cauldron," someone shouted above. Merlin saw that his hands were shackled together and connected to a chain that the barbaric savages above were still holding on to. They were now running the chain through some sort of pulley system and cranking a gear that began to withdraw the chain. Merlin felt his arms get pulled up until there was no slack, forcing him onto his tippy-toes. One of the men attached a small iron pot filled with steaming hot water to one of the loops, dangling precariously above Merlin's head.

_Tsssssssssssse_. Merlin yelped in pain as he felt some drops of scalding hot water fall onto him.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted from above. The crowd jeered and hooted. It was a sinister set-up they had devised. Any movement would tip the cauldron and release its boiling contents onto Merlin. But they were not done yet. The creak of a gate opening to the right caused Merlin to shift, earning him some splashes of burning hot water.

"Drggggggh!" he clenched his teeth together and tried to not to move. A shadow in the corner emitted a low growl, and began to move. Merlin felt his breath catch in his chest as he beheld the creature that rose before him. It was a brown bear. And it looked hungry. Unable to shrink away, Merlin's eyes widened in fear and his breath began to come in short gasps.

"Use your magic! You idiot!"

Between the being stuck in a pit with a snarling bear and the being chained to a cauldron of boiling water, Merlin didn't fully register the implication behind Arthur's commands. But he needed no further prompting. "_Abricaþ benda_ [3]," Merlin unlocked himself from the chains and his eyes flashed gold to freeze the cauldron in midair while he jumped out of the way.

"RAHHHH!" the sounds of fighting broke out above.

"_Beslæp!_ [4]" Merlin yelled at the bear as it charged towards him, but the spell seemed to bounce right off of the immense creature. With a huge swipe the bear knocked the wind out of him as he flew into the air and slammed against the wall. The cauldron that was hanging midair came crashing down and splashed onto the bear, further enraging the animal.

Momentarily stunned from the shock of impact, Merlin tried to roll out of the way quickly but his sluggish body was refusing to follow commands. Pinpricks of pain throughout his body were beginning to intensify. Pushing himself to his feet, he dove between the bears legs and tried the spell again, "_Beslæp!_" The bear wavered a bit, but turned around with such speed Merlin barely had time to react. "GAAH!" he yelled out in pain as the edge of the beast's claws slashed across his abdomen, spraying a mist of blood in its path. Eyes scrunched in pain, dripping wet, and clutching at his stomach, Merlin stood up shakily. When he opened his eyes they were completely gold, and he let out an animalistic roar. A fierce wind whipped up within the pit and became a violently rotating column of air, which trapped the bear within it. Another spinning torrent of wind then swept Merlin up out of the pit and back onto the surface.

"Merlin mate, need some help here!" Gwaine had been outfitted with a slave collar linked to manacles at his wrists, in a similar fashion as Arthur. It wasn't deterring him from throwing punches left and right though. Arthur had managed to grab somebody's sword and was trying to maneuver as best as possible in his chains.

"_Abricaþ benda!_" Merlin chanted, just in the nick of time as Arthur lifted his weapon high to parry a blow from his attacker. The edges of Merlin's vision were begining to get dark and fuzzy. He saw a man start to take a swing at Arthur, and threw out his hand to blow the man away. As Arthur spun around and saw the club clatter to the ground, he caught sight of his servant's outstretched hand and glowing eyes. Merlin however, had finally succumbed to his wounds, and fell to his knees, woozy from blood loss, as his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled as he dispatched the bandit he was fighting and rushed over to catch the unfortunate warlock just before he faceplanted on the ground.

* * *

Gaius was walking along the garden just outside the main citadel where the royal family lived. The distant noises of seagulls and gentle waves crashing along the shore served as a contrasting backdrop to his dark mood. Presently, two of the Kingsguards were escorting him to see the queen. Apparently she had something she wanted to discuss with him.

"May I present, the Queen, Cersei Lannister," said Jaime, rising up to greet Gaius when they arrived at a pavilion overlooking the ocean.

Gaius bowed respectfully, "Your Grace."

"Please, there is no need for such formalities here in the garden. Have a seat," the queen smiled, a light breeze blowing a wisp of hair across her face. Such a beautiful creature, famous through the seven kingdoms for her looks. Gaius however, regarded her with hesitance. He sat down and accepted a goblet offered by one of the servants. "Iced milk with honey steeped in lavender," Cersei indicated, "Our physician thought it might help with my sleep."

Gaius nodded, "Lavender is thought to have a calming effect. It may very well induce a state of relaxation, such as sleep." He noticed, on closer examination, that there were dark circles under the queen's eyes.

"I heard that you are an experienced physician. Perhaps you could provide a stronger draught to ease my sleep difficulties?"

"Well, it would depend on the cause behind your insomnia. May I ask a couple of questions to better understand the nature of your ailment?"

The queen gave Gaius a calculating look, then replied, "You may."

"How long have you been having trouble sleeping?"

"Since as far back as I can remember."

"Have you ever noticed whether certain things alleviate or exacerbate this problem?"

"I am better when I am near my family," Cersei glanced quickly at Jaime, "My nightmares are worse when my son is not close by."

"You have nightmares?"

"Yes."

"What about?"

"They don't really make much sense. Sometimes I see myself, but I have black hair…" Cersei trailed off and got a faraway look in her eyes.

"I see. That is very helpful, thank you for sharing with me," Gaius said, "I do have a tonic you could try perhaps. I had a patient many years ago who suffered a similar affliction as yours."

The queen thanked Gaius and he was escorted out of the garden, this time by Sir Jaime Lannister. "Do your job well, old man, and we may reward you with a position in the royal court."

"I work for the Stark family, sir, and plan to do so for a very long time," Gaius replied stiffly.

"And you would give up the chance to rise the ranks in power and influence?"

"I chose to be a healer for many reasons, politics is not one of them."

"Well that is your mistake, then. And such a sad mistake it is," Jaime remarked snidely.

"I have made many mistakes in my life, but that is not one of them," Gaius stated proudly.

Jaime smirked and leaned over to whisper in Gaius's ear, "Oh but it is, you see, because in Westeros, power is the difference between life and death. And the closer you are to the Iron Throne, the more power you have."

* * *

Merlin blinked. When he opened his eyes this time, it was fortunately not as terrible of a situation as the last time he opened his eyes. He was laying shirtless on a cot, with his midsection bandaged up quite expertly. Off to the side were a bunch of bloody rags scattered around a bucket of water. The last thing he remembered was…

"Dahh!" Merlin tried to scramble to a seated position and immediately regretted his sudden movements. Sharp stinging agony radiated out from the wound on his abdomen, "Gggunh…" Merlin winced in pain and wrapped his arm around himself tenderly.

"Lie down you idiot! I swear you were born without a natural human instinct for survival." Arthur walked over and sat down at the edge of the bed, facing Merlin with his arms crossed.

Gwaine helped ease Merlin back onto the pillow, "Aw come on, go easy on him. He did save your butt out there."

"Yes, then he proceeded to faint on us while we did the rest of the work. Sounds just like him," Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin heart thudded uncomfortably hard against his chest, "Arthur, I-I…I um, don't really know how to say this." Arthur uncrossed his arms, sensing an emotional moment, and began to look queasy himself. Merlin took a deep breath, "Arthur, I have magic."

Arthur didn't say anything for a long time, his face remained unreadable. He finally let go of the breath he was holding, "I know. I think I've always known."

Breaking the dramatic moment, Gwaine snorted, "I'm sorry Merlin, you're a smart man, but you had to know that everyone figured it out right? Everyone except Uther, that is. To anyone who knew you, it was…hard to miss. All the well-timed falling branches? The always knowing where to go? Why do you think we never even bothered asking you to wear armor?"

Merlin still looked fearful and hesitant. He gulped and looked to Arthur, "I wanted to tell you, but it needed to be the right time—"

"Merlin, since you've become my servant, we have spent most of our waking hours together. Do honestly think I'm that dense and imperceptive? One lucky break is serendipitous, two is extraordinarily lucky. But every single time? That's got to be more than luck."

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but paused, then his face paled, "Wait so, have you always known when I used magic to make you trip and fall on the practice field?"

"What?!" Arthur sat up straighter, a murderous look in his eyes.

"Forget that," Gwaine said, "Merlin, what I don't understand is, how did you have time to practice sorcery when you were balancing a million other things on your plate?"

"I never practiced sorcery. I was born with magic, it was a…gift. It is a part of my very essence, and asking me not to use it would be impossible. My magic instinctually protects me. Unless it's being oppressed by magic-restraining shackles…then it can't protect me," Merlin winced when remembering his terrible time spent at the mercy of Morgana and Morgause.

"I figured you were special," Gwaine grinned.

"Yes, special, you were definitely that." Arthur's face grew thoughtful, "I don't know what you and Lancelot did that day we were fighting Morgause's immortal army [5] (it certainly wasn't your job, which was taking out the warning bell), but whatever it was, I know your magic was the difference between life and death for me, and my men."

"The Cup of Life," Merlin remembered.

"While you are terrible at folding clothes, polishing armor, preparing breakfast, and oh, just every general aspect of being a servant, you are not evil, that much I've also always known. Your loyalty to the realm and your friendship to me are unquestionable," Arthur patted Merlin's leg affectionately. "But going back to the part about you abusing magic to make your master look like a fool?"

"Uh, I never said that…and hey, if you knew I was always using my magic to save your arse, why did you keep calling me a wimp?"

Arthur laughed, "Because you are."

Merlin shook his head, "You have no idea, just how many times, people have tried to kill you. And through so many creative and unique ways."

"After this quest, Merlin, we are going to the tavern!" Gwaine demanded.

* * *

[1] Forþgelæde = Grow*

[2] Then why are you wasting my time? = Valyrian language

[3] Merlin Season 3 Episode 1

[4] _Beslæp_ = Sleep*

[5] Merlin Season 3 Episode 13 = Merlin and Lancelot assigned to take out the warning bell while Arthur and knights fought with the Army of Immortal

*spell translation help obtained from Nyxelestia's Dreamwidth website: entry from 10/16/09.


	15. Cha 13: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1

**Chapter 13: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1  
**_The knights hurry back to King's Landing and find a scene of horror._

"So, was there anything special or different about him?" Arthur asked Merlin and Gwaine. The three of them were walking back to the inn where the horses were—after Merlin had spent three days recuperating in a farmer's cottage near Harrenhall.

"He was just an armorer's apprentice. But Gaius thinks he looks like King Robert when he was younger, so maybe he's the King's bastard son … _ack_! Oww," Merlin stopped, grimacing as he gripped his stomach.

"I _told _you we should have waited longer, gods, Merlin you can barely walk," Arthur's consternation grew as Merlin shook his head stubbornly.

"We should…get back. Ggnnuh…" Merlin groaned and waited for the wave of nausea to pass before continuing, "I just have a bad feeling." Arthur and Gwaine looked at each other and sighed as they each took one of Merlin's arms onto their shoulders.

"Almost there buddy," Gwaine comforted as he slipped his arm around Merlin's waist. Together, the three boys slowly hobbled their way into town, completely out of breath by the time they reached the inn.

"What's wrong with him?" the innkeeper eyed them with concern.

"We'll take a room one the first floor, please," Arthur threw a satchel of coins at the innkeeper, "And bring us a basin of water, some bandages, and porridge."

By the time they deposited Merlin on a cot, he was pale as a sheet, shaking, and sweating profusely. "Don't say you told me so, prat…" Arthur just shook his head as he and Gwaine removed Merlin's shirt to redress the bandages.

"Oh you're still going to call me that? As I perform a servant's duties for _my servant_," Arthur scoffed. Merlin chuckled faintly, color returning to his cheeks now that he was resting.

"I'm going to go check on our horses, aaaaand maybe grab a drink," Gwaine winked. As he headed towards the door a tavern girl walked in, carrying a tray with porridge, bandages, and a small bowl of water. Gwaine flashed her smile and took the tray, "Here, let me." The girl's cheeks flushed bright red as his hand grazed hers. Gwaine then hopped jauntily over to hold the door open for he, "After you!"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur went over to the table and grabbed two porridge bowls. "Here, eat," he gave one to Merlin.

Merlin for once did not give him any trouble, and took the bowl compliantly. Truthfully, he was famished. "There's a druidic herbalist living at the edges of this town. She'll be able to make a paste that can help me heal quicker."

"Why can't you just magic away the wound?" Arthur asked between mouthfuls.

"Doesn't work that way…if I write down a list of herbs I need, can you bring it to her?"

"What's the big rush?"

Merlin had scarfed down his entire bowl by now and was scraping away absently at the bottom with his wooden spoon. "I'm worried about Arya."

"Something in particular?"

"Well," Merlin tapped the spoon against his chin, "do you remember a couple years ago when we were being chased by bandits through the Valley of Fallen Kings?"

"Uh, which time?"

"When you got shot with an arrow and died."

"I don't recall dying, no."

"Well, you did. You were shot with an arrow up near your collarbone, and lost a lot of blood."

"OH right, yes, that," Arthur nodded.

"There was a powerful warlock that brought you back from death's door. He's the old man we saw before we started on this quest, Taliesin." Merlin paused, giving Arthur some time to digest, "He brought me to a cave where the combined power of hundreds of crystals revealed a great deal about the future to me."

"So you know what's going to happen then?" Arthur asked, incredulous.

"It was all too fragmented for me to understand. Just images and glimpses…well I did see an image of Morgana trying to kill Uther, that one was quite clear. But I think in one of the crystals I saw Arya, and she seemed to be in danger," Merlin let that hang in the air for awhile, as he remembered the image of young, brown-haired girl standing in a crowd, eyes wide with fear, pink tracts of tears running down her dirt-covered face. There was no mistaking it now, that child had definitely been Arya.

"What do you think Taliesin will do to my father?" Arthur wondered, bringing Merlin out of his reverie.

Merlin regarded him cautiously. "I think," he tried to choose his words very carefully, "he is being given a second chance." In the preceding days, he had filled Arthur in on the prophecies about him being the once and future king—ruler of a fair and just land where magic was freely practiced. A golden age.

Arthur's eyes glazed over. "Adults never think children are aware of what's going on, but I always knew my father could sense deep down that what he was doing was wrong. Yet knowing that only spurred him to be more aggressive outwardly, as if he could convince himself by force of his extremism."

"Well, he didn't have as good of a servant, to correct him when he's wrong-_ow_!" Merlin rubbed his arm, "Or be his personal punching bag…"

* * *

"Is Arthur Merlin's best friend?" Arya was balancing on one foot while Gaius ground away at his mortar and pestle.

"Well, he certainly cares about Arthur deeply, and doesn't want any harm to come to him."

"Mycah was my best friend," Arya lost her balance and stumbled onto both feet. She stood there for a moment, shoulders slumped and face forlorn, giving off a sense of grief that was far beyond her years.

Heart aching, Gaius tried to put her mind on other things, "What are you doing balancing on one foot?"

"Syrio says a true swordsman needs to be graceful and light on their feet," Arya recited.

"He did, didn't he?" Gaius smiled.

Arya switched to the other foot, "Do you think Sir Percival will still be able to be a knight?"

Gaius didn't respond immediately, the question pained him. "He is a knight of the round table, sworn to protect his king and uphold the values of honor and justice. This he will always do, as long as there is breath in his body."

Percival was in fact, continuing to serve his king. Despite the debilitating leg injury, he had recovered enough to walk about with the help of a cane, and taken up a job as prison guard. _It's good to have someone on the 'inside,' so to speak_, Gaius recommended, _Never know when that may come in handy._ Whilst down there, Percival was exposed to a wealth of second-hand information ranging from rumors of the Queen's incestual affair with her twin brother to reports of a sorcerer defeating the riverland slave traders. Some weeks after Percival had begun working in the dungeons, a recruiter from the North came to inquire about available prisoners for construction work up in the North.

"Name's Yoren," his coarse voice slipped past a thick black beard. "We're doing some reparations work on some older battlements and citadels…it's a lifetime commitment though so there'll be no coming back." Percival was just about to retrieve the prison manifest logs when the City Guard burst in, escorting a raucous group of drunks who'd evidently been in a tavern brawl. Despite their predicament, the men were singing loudly and off-tune—this new folk song that had recently become popular:

_She couldn't keep the king in bed_

_She thought she'd have her own instead_

_She made a lion she's a lyin'_

_But soon it'll be off her head!_

The song's accusations were obvious, as the Lannister house sygil was a lion. Percival sighed. The king had gone out hunting for the week and in the intervening time period, the prince had ordered that anyone caught singing that song be put to death.

"You can probably add them to your list of recruits, they won't be setting foot in King's Landing again," Percival said. _At least not alive_, he thought.

"I heard the King has a bastard son in Flea Bottom, the poorest slum district in King's Landing, would ya thinka that?" one of the men cackled, "Guess he was hankerin' for some Nauti Mermaid, eh?"

* * *

After Arthur obtained the herbal paste from the local druid healer, Merlin's recovery sped up rapidly. This freed him up to return to the banks of the Trident where he had been last looking for the dragonglass dagger.

"You're not coming, and that's final," Arthur crossed his arms.

Merlin put his hands up and gave Arthur an innocent look, "Wasn't going to argue, but just let me conjure a protective charm to accompany you."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "Will that jeopardize or delay your recovery?"

"No," Merlin said too quickly, "Not…really. Look, last time you-"

"Yes, last time I was captured by slave traders, but they are no longer a problem now. So stay here and get better. When I come back with the dragonglass, I expect you to be ready to leave."

Merlin cocked an eyebrow, "By the time you back, I might be old and gray."

"Alright enough bantering, Princess said he can read maps well, thanks to his royal education," Gwaine held a rolled-up scroll in his hand. "Let's get this dragger dug up before dinner, I've got plans tonight."

Deciding it wasn't worth arguing, Merlin waited until the two left. When he heard the door shut, he immediately closed his eyes and began following them with his mind magic.

"I've a good idea where it might be, I felt like I was close last time," Arthur said. Without an injured warlock limping between them, the two knights moved much more quickly. Soon they were at the clearing where Arthur had been captured. Merlin chanted some words and soon a blue orb materialized above his hand. Arthur also saw a blue orb materialize in front of him and cursed at Merlin silently. _Why does he never listen?_ The orb began drifting towards a gnarled old tree whose branches were dipping into the water. It paused over a particular patch of dirt and then flickered out. Arthur takes the hint and begins digging, with Gwaine quickly joining in. Soon their hands knock against a hard surface; it's a box. Opening it, Arthur sees a small thin dagger inside, which looks like it's made of black onyx.

"So that's dragonglass," Gwaine sat back on his haunches.

"Guess you won't be late for your date."

* * *

Two days later, Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine were on the road. A farmer's cart rolled past them with a singing troubadour sitting amongst the apples—hitching a ride no doubt.

_The boar's great tusks, they boded ill, for good King Robert's health. _

_And the boar was every bit as fat, as Robert was himself. _

_But our brave King Robert lost his battle,_

_and he failed his final test.[1]_

"Wait stop," Merlin tugged his reigns and turned around, calling out to the cart. The singer stopped plucking at his woodharp, looking alarmed. "What are you singing about?"

"Haven't you heard? The King has been injured in a hunt, and they say he's not got long to live."

This unsettling news filled Merlin with leaden foreboding. Without waiting to ask Arthur, he cast a speed enchantment on the horses and raced towards the capital.

"Hey, what the?" Arthur yelled. Gwaine exchanged a look with him, _What can you do? _When they reached the city gates, Merlin felt his skin crawl. The streets were empty and a light rain had begun to fall. The bleak, gray sky cast an ominous ambience. Distantly they heard a crowd yelling. It was coming from the public square.

"Traitor! Traitor!"

The three looked at each other, alarmed, and broke into a run. Over in the main square a large crowd had gathered and was jostling about. Arthur grabbed the nearest person, "Hey, what's happening?"

"The king's hand is about to be executed for treason! He claimed that Prince Joffrey was not fit to inherit the throne, because he is the incestual child of the queen and her twin brother."

Merlin scanned the crowd frantically, and stopped on a short, brown-haired girl standing in the corner by herself, eyes full of fear. _It's Arya, this is my vision…_

"KILL HIM!" yelled a pre-pubescent teenage boy's voice. Merlin looked up and saw Prince Joffrey standing on a raised platform; kneeling at the executioner's block was Lord Stark.

"NO!" Merlin yelled as Ned Stark's head rolled off the platform.

* * *

[1] lyrics adapted from Marillion's song in GoT Season 1 Episode 10


End file.
